


Keep on Singing

by Andrea_ODown



Category: Sing (2016)
Genre: Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 59,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9239210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andrea_ODown/pseuds/Andrea_ODown
Summary: A few months have passed since the grand re-opening of the Moon Theater. All in all everything seems to be fine. But under the surface, everyone has to deal with some problems. Ash is facing writer's block with her new album, Rosita is enjoying her new life as a famous singer, but has less and less time for her family, Mike is still hiding from some angry bears, Meena may have overcome her insecurity when it comes to singing, but interviews are still a challenge for her, and Johnny wants to turn the garage he and his father used to live in into a youth center. And Buster has to keep the theater running while keeping Ms. Crawly from driving the new secretary crazy and writing a new play.





	1. Buster

Things couldn’t be any better for Buster Moon and his theater. Ever since his idea with the singing competition, his old theater breaking down, and the show he and the others put on just to share their love for music, things have been constantly getting better and better. He could do without the whole “reaching rock bottom”-part, though. On the other hand, if it meant that things were going to get this good afterwards he thinks he can handle it. If it doesn’t happen too often. Or ever again.

Truth is the theater is doing great. Rosita is the star of his new show “Dreaming the Singer’s Dream” with Gunter being a close second. Buster has no idea how Rosita does it. She’s a mother of twenty-five, yet she puts on two shows every week and still seems to have time for her family. Or so she keeps telling the reporters. Barely a week passes without an article on this amazing singer who happens to reconcile family and career in such a great way. The women’s magazines love her. Not that Buster reads these things. Ms. Crawly told him about it.

Ash has disappeared from the scene for a bit to work on her first album, but she shows up in the theater every two weeks or so to practice, insisting that the atmosphere helps her getting focussed. Also Buster has managed to get her for an exclusive album-release concert next month.

Meena is doing a concert here at the theater every month, and she really seems to have gotten over her stage fright. However, she still has some trouble facing people when she’s not singing, her insecurity often getting the better of her during interviews. That’s why Buster insists on no live interviews whenever a TV channel or newspaper wants to interview Meena. It has worked out just fine so far.

Mike only appears at the theater every once in a while, asking to do one of his pop-up concerts which have become his trademark. Why he insists on such tight security, though, is beyond Buster. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to know. Mike managed to get his first album out two weeks ago, another thing that Buster doesn’t really understand. Or just another thing he doesn’t want to think about too much. Mike seems to be happy, though.

Johnny is performing at the theater every month, just like Meena. And he shows up here almost every day, practicing or just being backstage right somewhere in a corner where he wouldn’t bother Eddie or one of the stage workers and watching the activities around him. When Buster catches sight of the young gorilla, it always makes him smile. It reminds him so much of the time when he fell in love with the theater. He has a surprise up his sleeve for Johnny, though. He wants to make him the star of his next show. He’s already working on the story, trying his best to write a role tailor-made for Johnny. Just like he did with his recent show for Rosita. He’s a little stuck with the story, but it will all come together in time. Buster is sure about that.

So, all in all, everything’s just great.

Except for one thing. There’s so much going on in the theater, Buster is afraid that Ms. Crawly isn’t able to handle it all by herself any longer. The iguana would never admit it, though, so that’s why Buster hired someone to help her out.

He still needs to tell Ms. Crawly, though, and he so isn’t looking forward to it.

Buster takes a deep breath and hits the button on the intercom.

“Ms. Crawly, would come in for a moment?” he asks.

“Being right there,” the iguana replies, telling Buster that he has at least five more minutes to finish his morning coffee and think of what exactly to tell her.

When Ms. Crawly finally arrives, Buster still hasn’t figured out the words, so he decides to just go with whatever comes to his mind.

“So, Ms. Crawly,” he starts, “things are going pretty well with the theater, aren’t they?”

“Oh yes, Mr. Moon,” Ms. Crawly replies. “It’s just amazing.”

“You know with all the workload and your age” - _wrong word, wrong word, Buster!_ \- “I mean, your experience, I thought maybe we should change things a bit.”

He puts on a big smile. Ms. Crawly, however, looks like she’s going to break into tears any moment, and Buster really doesn’t understand what is going on.

“Are you telling me you are going to fire me?” she asks, already reaching for her handkerchief.

“What!? No!” he cries out. “Of course not! After all the things we’ve been going through together, I could never fire you.”

“Oh, okay.” Ms. Crawly puts her handkerchief away again.

“I just hired someone to help you out.”

Sometimes, it’s hard to read Ms. Crawly’s expression - Buster blames her glass eye for it - and this is one of these moments. But if he has to guess, he’d say Ms. Crawly has set her jaw into a hard line.

“I don’t need help,” she says, confirming Buster’s guess.

“Of course _not_ , Ms. Crawly!” he replies. “But you have to see it this way: You have all these years of experience. Why don’t let someone young … more inexperienced benefit from it?”

“If you put it that way, Mr. Moon, okay,” Ms. Crawly says, and Buster releases the breath he has been holding in a silent sigh. Good thing he thought of this experience-argument just in time.

“But I have to insist that I do not need any help. I am perfectly fine doing all the work around the office by myself,” Ms. Crawly adds emphatically.

It’s the moment Buster sees the tower of papers on her desk collapse through the window that separates his office from hers.

He catches his jaw right in time before dropping.

“I know that, Ms. Crawly,” he says, putting on a forced smile. “Just let this young girl benefit from your years of office-experience in the theater-business.”

He already said that, didn’t he? But he keeps the smile on his face, and after a few moments, Ms. Crawly shrugs.

“Well, I guess, we all started somewhere,” she says. “I might as well help this young girl out.”

“That’s the spirit, Ms. Crawly!”

He’s still watching her with this way too broad smile on his face as she turns around and leaves his office. When she opens the door, some of the papers from her desk pour in. She just picks them up as if nothing has happened and keeps on walking.

This gives Buster a few more moments - or minutes - to think that maybe, just maybe he has made things worse.


	2. Meena

She’s so not looking forward to her meeting with Buster Moon, Meena thinks as she walks over to the bus. Some kids from her school point at her and whisper secretly, so Meena assumes they recognized her from her performances at the Moon Theater.

Just in case, she flaps her ears over her face and hides behind it as much as she can.

It doesn’t help much, but this has always been as much as she can do when her insecurity gets the best of her.

The days after the concert in the ruins of the Moon Theater months ago had been a challenge. All these kids at school suddenly greeting her and wanting to talk to her, it was too much. She has no problems singing in front of an audience, but talking to other people still was a challenge. Especially when there were ten at once who wanted her attention.

So she hid behind her ears again, tried to say something polite and ended up stuttering a few sentences. The kids were nice, they didn’t laugh, but as it has been going like this every single day, they just gave up and stopped trying to start a conversation with her.

Which was fine with her, really. All she wants to do is singing. Talking isn’t so important, she decided that long ago.

And this is why she really isn’t looking forward to her meeting with Buster Moon. Sure, she loves having a little chat with him or when he gives her some valuable advice during rehearsals, but meetings always hold the possibility of having to go to another interview, and she hates them. At least they never are live, and Buster always has an eye that in the end, it looks like she answered every question right away and so confidently as it suits a local talent as her. But in reality, she was always stumbling over the words during interviews and she’s pretty sure she’s giving the editors a whole bunch of extra work when they have to cut her stammer into whole sentences.

She’s just glad there has never been a clock behind her during an interview for TV because otherwise the minute hand would be jumping forward. It might be one sentence, only a few seconds long on TV, but during the interview it takes her at least three attempts to get it right, sometimes stopping in the middle of a sentence because she forgets the words she has made up just a second ago.

She sighs as she climbs into the bus.

Hopefully, this meeting today is only going to be about rehearsals for her concert in two weeks. Totally possible, right? Even if Buster just called her during lunch break to tell her that he needs to speak to her after school. That doesn’t mean anything, right?

She sure hopes so.

* * *

 

Arriving at the Moon Theater Meena takes one deep breath before she enters. Her heart starts racing in her chest as she mounts the stairs to Buster’s office.

She has a really bad feeling about this. Yet, she always has a bad feeling about meetings, so that doesn’t mean anything, right?

“Hello, Ms. Crawly!” she greets the iguana although she isn’t able to see her. She just _assumes_ that Ms. Crawly is sitting at her desk as usually. The tower of paper there is making it difficult to be sure.

“Oh, hello there, Meena!” Ms. Crawly replies from behind the paper-tower. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Ms. Crawly,” Meena replies, trying her best to peek over the papers, but failing, even though she’s an elephant and definitely not that small. “How are you?”

“Well, I’ve just been told this morning that we are getting a second secretary,” Ms. Crawly says.

“That’s good, isn’t it? You’ll have someone to talk to, then.”

“This isn’t about talking!” Ms. Crawly responds, and something in her voice sounds so unlike Ms. Crawly that Meena starts to think that this might be a tricky topic. Out of reflex, she puts her ears back over her face.

“Oh, okay,” she mumbles.

“This is about teaching a young girl a thing or two about office-life!” Ms. Crawly continues as if she hasn’t heard Meena’s reply which - given the volume of Meena’s voice - she probably hasn’t.

“I see,” the elephant girl says a little louder. “Is … is Mr. Moon ready for our meeting?”

“I think so. Just go right in, Meena,” Ms. Crawly replies.

“Thank you!” Meena says quickly and rushes over to Mr. Moon’s office.

The sudden movement makes the tower of papers on Ms. Crawly’s desk staggering dangerously until it finally collapses.

Meena wishes the ground would open and swallow her up. At least she can now _see_ Ms. Crawly when she apologizes.

“I’m sorry!” she says.

Ms. Crawly’s face is hard to read, so Meena enters Mr. Moon’s office as fast as she can.

“Good afternoon, Meena!” he greets her with such a big grin, Meena can only reply with a smile. “How are you today?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Good, good. Come, have a seat.” He points at one of the chairs in front of his desk and Meena sits down.

“See, Meena, I had a very interesting call today,” he begins. “A national TV channel wants to do an interview with the teenage girl who overcame her insecurity by singing.”

An interview, she knew it.

“Uhm, okay,” she mumbles as she sinks a bit more into her seat.

“There’s only one problem,” Mr. Moon continues. “The interview’s going to be broadcasted live.”

Meena’s eyes shut wide open.

“Oh no, nononono!” she says quickly. “No, I ca… I can’t… This is… this isn’t…” She breaks off.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Mr. Moon says, but Meena is feeling anything, but fine. “It’s next week and we are going to find a way to help you through, okay?”

“O-okay.”

“So, now go home, have a nice little chat with your family, let it all sink in and come back tomorrow after school, and we’ll think of a plan of action. Does that sound okay?” Mr. Moon is still smiling at her, but she can see the concern in his eyes, too.

“O-okay,” she mumbles again.

“Good,” he says as he jumps on his table to be able to pat her shoulder. “You can do this, Meena, I am sure.”

“Th-thank you, Mr. Moon,” she says as she slowly, really slowly gets to her feet and leaves his office again.

She crosses Ms. Crawly’s office so lost in thought she only remembers the last second to say goodbye to her.

Then she’s on her way down the stairs.

Her mind is racing, trying really hard to catch up with her already racing heart.

She can see Rosita from the corner of her eye, but she is no condition to talk to anyone, so she just nods at her and keeps on walking.

She can feel Rosita looking at her. She even asks what’s wrong.

Meena doesn’t reply, she just keeps walking.

Everything’s wrong, that’s what.


	3. Rosita

Rosita watches Meena go past her, and something seems off. The teenage elephant doesn’t greet, just nods at her which really is unlike Meena. And the way she slouches her shoulders and uses her ears to cover her face, this is the ultimate sign.

Besides, Rosita is a mom of twenty-five. She knows when something’s wrong with kids.

“Meena!” she calls after her. “What’s wrong?”

But Meena keeps walking as if she didn’t hear.

For a moment, Rosita thinks of running after her, stepping into her way and not letting her walk away until she knows what’s going on. But she does have a meeting with Mr. Moon coming up, and she doesn’t want to be late.

So she makes a mental note to call Meena later and climbs the stairs to Mr. Moon’s office.

* * *

 

“Rosita, hello!” she’s greeted by the koala once she enters the office - after tiptoeing around the papers covering the floor of Ms. Crawly’s room. It reminded her a bit of the time when she herself covered a floor in paper to finally get the dancing steps right.

It still makes her shake her head in disbelief. How could she have been so wrong? Dancing, music, it isn’t about counting steps. Well, yes, the steps matter, too, but it is more important to feel the music.

She has to thank Gunter for teaching her that. And she’s grateful Mr. Moon partnered her up with the other pig back in the day. Although, granted, Gunter still is a challenge sometimes. His style, his way of talking, his personality, but as much as it makes Rosita mentally slap her hand against her forehead, she must admit, she wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Hello, Mr. Moon,” she returns the greeting.

Once she’s seated in front of his office desk, Mr. Moon turns all business. She can tell from the look on his face.

“We need to talk about your show,” he says, and he sounds so serious, it sends a shiver down her spine.

Is he going to tell her that the show is cancelled?

But why would he do that? It’s really popular, and even more important, she loves this show so very much! The role she’s playing, it’s not just a role - it’s her, in a way. A young singer giving up on all her dreams of ever starting a singing career because her family needs her help in the family business.

Well, it hasn’t been a family business that had kept her from starting her singing career - unless you call starting a family a business, which in a way, it is, actually.

But now she has this. She is where she always wanted to be. At the top of her game, performing two shows every week, and just loving every second of it!

“Yes?” she asks, her voice sounding just a little scared - which really is amazing because deep inside her, she’s terrified.

“It’s only going to run till the end of the year here at the Moon Theater.”

“Oh.” Something inside Rosita shatters. There. Her singing career isn’t going to last much longer.

“Yes, I’m sorry, too,” Mr. Moon says. “But it needs to be done because we are going to send ‘Dreaming the Singer’s Dream’ on a tour all across the country!”

During this sentence the koala’s face has lit up and now he was grinning at her so broadly, Rosita fears his face is going to fall apart.

And the words sink in.

“Wait, what?” she asks, her voice pitching. “You are sending me on tour!?”

“If that’s fine with you, of course,” Mr. Moon replies. “If you can only do a show every now and then, that would be fine, too, but it’s mainly your show, so I’d hate to have someone else playing the female lead.”

“No, that’s totally fine!” Rosita insists, laughing happily.

Just when she thought it was all over…

“Are you sure you can pull it off?” Mr. Moon asks. “I understand if you want to talk to your family first.”

This makes her flinch just a little bit.

“No, it’s fine, really,” she says, although some of the happiness is gone from her voice. “I can do it!”

“Well, in that case, congratulations!” Mr. Moon says. “I’m sure you’re going to do great.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Moon!” The happiness is back. She’s going to perform all over the country. This is big! Oh, she’s so excited already!

“Does Gunter know already?” she asks.

“No, not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Well, if you want me to, I can tell him. I just need to take care of something else first.”

“Wonderful! Well, I see you at practice tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Mr. Moon! I am not going to disappoint you!”

And with that she’s practically dancing out of the office, stumbling over one of the paper stacks Ms. Crawly has put together on the floor in a way to organize this mess.

“Oh, sorry, Ms. Crawly!” she says quickly.

Ms. Crawly doesn’t do as much as sigh.

And then Rosita is running down the stairs, producing her phone from her bag.

She knows she should be on her way home and help Norman with the kids, but she has to do this first.

And after that she has to call Gunter.

And then, only then she has to go home and pop the big news to her husband.

He is so not going to like it, but of course, he’ll understand in the end because this is important for her career. And it is even more important to _her_. Norman has been such a great help over the last couple of months, and he’s doing such an amazing job with the kids, Rosita is sure he can keep it up for a little longer.

But first things first.

She quickly dials the number.

“Meena?” she says once the call is answered. “It’s Rosita. Are you alright? … Are you sure? … Hey, do you want me to come over?”


	4. Ash

Ash wakes to the ringing of the door bell.

Right, it’s Wednesday, she remembers, as she rolls out of bed, slips into a black vest to wear over her pajamas and drags her feet over to the apartment door.

Suppressing a yawn she opens the door.

And as every Wednesday she’s greeted by an enormous bouquet of red roses.

“Good morning, Ash!” says the delivery man from the flower shop. “Special delivery!”

“Good morning, Jared,” replies Ash. Yes, this has been going on for such a long time, she already knows his name. “Usual way of proceeding.”

“Okey-dokey!” Jared’s hippo-face turns into a broad grin. “The people at the hospital are going to be so happy again. Do you want the gift card?”

“As usual,” she replies.

She reaches for her purse, produces a bill and hands it to Jared. In return he gives her the gift card.

“Have a nice day, Ash!”

“You too, Jared!”

And then he’s on his way to the hospital with this enormous bouquet.

Ash closes the door.

She looks down at the gift card.

For a moment, she even thinks of reading it, but she has read the first three of them, and they all say the same.

How sorry he is, what a fool he is, that please she should give them another chance.

_Ugh._

She tears the gift card into as small pieces as possible and throws it into the trash.

One would think Lance should have learned his lesson by now, but no. Every Wednesday - because they first met on a Wednesday, Ash remembers as much - he sends her flowers and a gift card.

And every Wednesday Ash sends the flowers on to the hospital. They don’t cheer her up, rather the opposite, so maybe they can do some good there.

Ash could really do without this feeling of anger every Wednesday morning, but she hasn’t told Lance so. Because she doesn’t talk to Lance at all.

She doesn’t call him back, she doesn’t answer his texts, she just feels the anger rise in her chest and swallows it down. It always leaves a bitter taste in her mouth which she could do without, too.

But now that she’s already up, she could just as well continue the work on her first album.

She prepares herself a nice cup of coffee and settles in on the floor of the living room with her guitar and her laptop.

She has already finished nine songs, well, eight, because the first one, “Set It All Free”, has been written before she found a label.

She still remembers what it has felt like to write that song. She wrote it to show them that she could do it. She wrote it to show _Lance_ that she’s got what it takes to be a singer.

 _In your face, Lance!_ \- That has been her main drive for this song.

But as soon as she was up on that stage, Lance didn’t matter any longer. He was just a side note, somewhere in the back of her head. All that mattered was her song, the music, singing, and putting on a great show.

And she did it.

Everything had been a blur of events after that. The agent contacting her, the meetings with the label, the re-opening of the Moon Theater - she didn’t even have time to think about anything else than her music back then.

Sure, the day after the show in the ruins of the Moon Theater, Lance had contacted her, but she had ignored it, thinking that Lance would get the message.

And then he had started calling her every few hours, and still there had been so many things going on she didn’t even have time to get angry.

Besides, she had still been sure that he would get the message eventually.

But this is Lance after all.

His calls turned into texts which she ignored just like his calls.

And then, finally, things were starting to settle down a bit when the contract with the label was signed, the details of her first album had been agreed on, and she could finally get back to writing.

She remembers that she had smiled when she took out her phone and there were no new texts or calls from Lance.

Finally!

And then, the following Wednesday, the first bouquet arrived.

Ash sighs and shakes her head.

She doesn’t have to think about that now. She has to think about music and lyrics.

She stares at the strings of her guitar, plays a few chords, and they all sound wrong.

She sighs again.

It’s been like this for the past two weeks.

Sure, she has heard of writer’s block, she just hasn’t know it could happen to musicians, too.

She puts the guitar away and stares out of the window.

It seems to be a nice day out there.

An idea forms in her head and she finishes her coffee in big gulps.

Quickly, she jumps to her feet and runs to the bedroom to get dressed.

Maybe a change of scenery will do the trick.

* * *

The weather is really nice, and the atmosphere at the park is just as fine, Ash realizes, until she sets eyes on someone she hasn’t expected here.

The way this porcupine moves, the style of clothes - she knows it is Lance before he even turns around.

She comes to a halt, spins on her heel and walks away as fast as she can.

It takes all her self-control to not break into a jog.

However, today doesn’t seem to be her lucky day. She only managed a few meters when she hears Lance’s voice behind her.

“Ash!?” he calls out. “Ash, is that you?”

And then he’s by her side.

Ash keeps her eyes glued to the path.

“How are you, Ash?” Lance asks, a bit out of breath from running over to her.

“I’m fine,” she replies. “How’s Becky?”

From the corner of her eye she can see him flinch.

“I don’t know, actually,” he finally admits. “We aren’t dating anymore.”

“Oh, what a pity!” she replies, putting as much sarcasm into her voice as she can. “You two were _perfect_ for each other!”

She can see some movement knows he’s rubbing over his neck, something he alway does when he’s nervous.

“Hey, did you get my flowers?” he asks all of a sudden.

“I did.”

“The gift cards?”

“Them, too.”

“So, what do you say?”

She stops so abruptly, Lance’s almost tumbling over in attempt to follow her suit.

“Are you even _serious!?_ ” she calls out.

It’s the first time she looks at him directly, and he looks so surprised by her outburst, she wants to slap him.

Why doesn’t he _get_ it?!

“After all you’ve done to me,” she goes on, her voice a bit lower, but still louder than normal, “you really think I’d want to get back together?”

“Why not?”

“Why n…” Her voice breaks off mid-sentence and she lets out a frustrated groan. “You know what Lance, forget it! I don’t want to see your face ever again! Stop sending me flowers! Stop doing anything! Stop existing, for all I care!”

“Oh, come on, Ash, give me a chance! I’ve changed! Please!”

“When pigs fly!” she replies and starts walking again, her eyes anywhere but on Lance who’s already walking beside her again.

“But they do fly!” he says. “In helicopters and planes and…”

“Leave me _alone_ already!”

“But Ash!”

“Hey, I think I heard the lady say no!” someone says all of a sudden, someone with a voice strangely familiar.

Ash twists her mouth just a little as she sets eyes on Mike.

Granted, though, she isn’t as annoyed to see him as she usually would be.

“That’s none of your business, rodent!” Lance replies.

“Oh, isn’t it?” Mike says. “Maybe my friends can explain it to you.”

And then his bodyguards - why does he always have bodyguards with him, Ash wonders - walk up to Lance. Facing a rhino and a polar bear instead of a tiny mouse makes Lance retreat a few steps. When they come even closer, he turns around and jogs away.

“See you around, Ash!” he calls over his shoulder, and then he’s gone.

The bodyguards take up their post close to Mike again.

“What are you doing here?” Ash asks the mouse.

“What? No _thank you, Mike, for saving me from my crazy boyfriend_? I am hurt!” Mike puts a hand over his heart and truly does look hurt. However, he’s always be a quite good actor.

“ _Ex_ -boyfriend,” Ash corrects him. “And I had everything under control. Lance is a jerk, but he isn’t dangerous.”

“If you say so, sweetheart,” Mike says. “And to answer your question, I’m checking out a new spot for my next pop-up concert.”

“I see,” Ash says. “Bye, Mike!”

She’s already a few steps away, when she stops again. She looks back over her shoulder at Mike.

“And thank you,” she says quickly.

Mike taps his hat as some sort of a greeting. “You’re welcome, sweetheart!”

And then he, together with his bodyguards, is on his way again.

So this change of scenery hasn’t quite worked the way out she wanted, Ash figures, but maybe some other scenery will do.

And with that she sets into motion again, leading her steps into the direction of the Moon Theater.


	5. Johnny

Johnny is standing in front of the garage. His skateboard is tucked under his arm, his eyes glued to the building. The building that has been the center of his life for such a long time.

There are so many memories attached to it, good ones and bad ones, and as much as he has tried to think this over the past couple of months, he’s come to the conclusion he doesn’t want to miss any of those. They are a part of him.

Like this garage is.

This old, rundown garage.

He remembers playing in the rooms and run around between cars and spare parts as a kid when it still has been a car repair shop. And then everything changed when his mother died.

His father and he moved to the rooms over the garage, turned them into some sort of an apartment. Which still would have been okay, but then his father tried to make money faster than he should. And Johnny just went along - with the gang, with the “business” because he didn’t know any better.

Until he started to understand.

Until he started to actually know better.

About what he wanted to do with his life.

And when he followed his dream, he accidentally sent his father to prison.

Or did he?

He still likes to think that his dream was what saved _him_ from prison. Who knew if they would have been able to get away even if he had been there on time?

Yes, of course, he didn’t mean to let his father down. He could have never done it on purpose. He is a good son. He always has been.

But still, what if he had been there like the good son he’s still convinced he is? A car chase and who knew if they had been able to get away?

No, he was at the rehearsal. And he likes to think that it was the music that saved him from prison.

It most certainly showed him what he really wanted to do. He wanted to sing, with all his heart, with all his soul.

And now even his father understands that.

Johnny’s days as a gang member are over. And he never wants to go back.

But the thing with the past is, sometimes it comes back to haunt you.

And for Johnny that’s double-true. His past haunts him because he still remembers so many things he doesn’t want to remember, dreams about them at night.

And it haunts him because his father is in prison and Johnny spends all the money he can spare to pay his lawyer.

He wants his father back as soon as possible. And thus his father needs a good lawyer.

So he has moved to a small apartment after the craziness with the show in the ruins of the Moon Theater. And by small, he means small. Just a small kitchen-cum-living room, an even smaller bedroom separated from the rest of the apartment by a sliding door, and a tiny bathroom.

He likes his apartment. It’s his first own apartment, and it is still bigger than the room he had owned over the garage.

But still, he needs to figure out what to do with the garage. It’s officially his now. The problem is he doesn’t really know what to do with it. He has not time to run it, he’s too busy working on his singing career.

He knows he should sell it to the highest bidder and use the money for his father’s lawyer, but he can’t.

It’s a place of so many memories, he doesn’t want to sell it away.

Every month he stands here, every month he tells himself that next month he’s going to sell it or when he really needs the money. And every month he tells himself that it isn’t necessary yet, that it can wait another month.

With a sigh he walks up to the roll-up door, opens it.

He’s immediately greeted by all the smells he knows so well. This still smells like home, in a way, even if it now has this whiff of dust to it.

The place looks terrible.

He reminds himself of that every month, and still, why isn’t he able to sell this place?

Over there, this was the place where he had fallen down and hurt his knee so badly that it had bled. And over there his father had put a Band-Aid on his knee, talking to him in a low and soothing voice to calm him down. He still remembers there had been his favorite comic figure on the Band-Aid.

And then it hits him.

This is the reason! The memories, the good, the bad, all of them combined, this is why he can’t sell the garage.

And he realizes something else. No, he doesn’t want to sell the garage, but he doesn’t want it to gather dust.

His face turns into a smile.

He knows what to do.

He glances at his watch. It’s a good thing it’s time for his weekly visit at the prison. He needs to talk to his father about this first.

* * *

 “So, what’s up, Johnny?” his father asks, his voice sounding further away than he actually is due to the glass and the handset.

“The usual, Dad,” he replies. “Rehearsals later today, a concert in two weeks.” He shrugs.

“I see.” His father looks closer at him, and Johnny feels like he’s looking right through him. It almost makes him flinch.

“What’s wrong?” his father asks, and Johnny feels like a little kid getting caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Wait, hasn’t something similar happened at the garage too all these years ago?

“Johnny?” His father doesn’t raise his voice, but there’s this serious ring to it that makes Johnny jump.

“Dad, it’s about the garage…”

“Johnny, you don’t have to worry about that,” his father says. “If you need to sell it, sell the damn ol’ thing. It’s fine.”

Johnny’s heart hurts just a little when his father calls the garage a damn ol’ thing, but he tries not to show it.

“No, I don’t want to sell it, Dad,” he says. “I want to turn it into a youth center.”

“A youth center?”

“Yes, you know, to give it a function.”

His father lifts a hand to his temple. “Johnny, is this one of your ideas again?”

“Yes, yes, it is,” Johnny says. “And it’s a good one.”

“Do you have the money for it?”

Johnny feels a pang in his chest. “Uhm, no, but I’m working on that.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, son,” his father says, and for the first time in months, he actually sounds worried.

“No, of course not!” Johnny says. “I have a few ideas” - he actually hasn’t - “I just need to work them out.”

“Stubborn as always, huh?”

“Well, uhm…”

And then his father breaks into laughter. He laughs like Johnny hasn’t heard him laugh in a very long time.

And it stirs something deep inside Johnny’s heart and makes him smile.

“Do whatever makes you happy, son,” his father finally says. “As long as it’s according to the laws, I’m fine with it. Learned my lesson there. And at least one of us should stay on the other side of this glass.” He taps said glass and laughs again.

“So, you’re okay with it?” Johnny asks.

“I am.”

“Thanks, Dad!”

The rest of the visit they talk about other things. Mostly, they talk about Johnny and what is happening in his life. His father doesn’t really want to talk about life in prison. And Johnny doesn’t push him.

When Johnny leaves the prison later today, he thinks of the youth center and it adds a new spring to his step. He knows what to do with the garage now, and that’s just great! He knows what to do next. Get the money.

And this makes his steps falter again.

Because he has no idea where to get that money.

He even stops for a moment.

But a glance at his watch reminds him that he should get going if he wants to be on time for rehearsals.

But still, the youth center, he thinks it’s such a great idea and …

He shakes the thought off.

Music first, youth center later.

This is how it should be.

Music, youth center, the two thoughts keep spinning in his head, and he feels an idea form in the back of his brain, but before it can settle in, another glance at the clock reminds him that he really should get going now.


	6. Mike

“Babe, I’m home!” Mike calls out as soon as he enters the apartment. He’s been too lazy to use the door for mice he had let put into the regular door, so one of his bodyguards unlocked the door for him and let him in.

It’s better that way anyway. Always stay as close to the bodyguards as possible. Better not to take a risk. Those grizzly bears sure aren’t some to forget that he cheated them out of this rather small amount of money.

Of course, he could pay them back now, but something tells him that they wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily now. They want revenge, not just money.

So, yes, bodyguards it is.

Nancy walks out of the living room, wearing some plain black dress, but still looking so stunning, Mike wants to pinch himself. He is one lucky mouse after all. Well, not considering some vengeful grizzly bears. Or the fact that he has bodyguards around him all day. Or that he had to share his apartment with said bodyguards which is the reason why he had to buy a normal-sized apartment. Not that he really likes those mouse-apartments. He sure prefers the “bigger is better”-philosophy. But actually having to share his apartment with bodyguards isn’t something he likes at all.

And neither does Nancy.

He can see in the way she sets her jaw what’s coming next.

“Hey, guys,” he says to his bodyguards. “I think I don’t need you right now. You can go to your rooms.”

Yes, his bodyguards have their own rooms. He made sure that they can stay in the front part of the apartment why he and Nancy can occupy the rest of the apartment.

They could spend days here without coming even close to his bodyguards, but still, Nancy doesn’t like it.

His bodyguards nod and walk away. Nancy watches them leave with an annoyed look on her face, and Mike feels the urge to sigh, but he suppresses it.

Instead, he walks over to Nancy, offering her his arm - which she ignores. Not a good sign.

She just turns around and walks into the living room.

Mike follows her, his shoulders hanging.

In the middle of the room Nancy turns around abruptly which makes him skitter to a halt.

“So you finally decided to show up,” she says, her voice so cold it sends a shiver down his spine.

“Babe, I had work to do,” he replies. “Those pop-up concerts, they don’t pop up just like that. I know that’s what they are called, but there’s a lot of preparation going on beforehand.”

“And yet I was stuck here all day,” she says, “because you don’t want me to go outside on my own.”

“It’s just to protect you! Those grizzly bears, you know what they are capable of! I mean, without you, I would be bear food by now. I don’t want anything happen to you!”

“And still, I was _stuck_ here all day.” She twists her mouth. “And yes, I saved you, did I not? Doesn’t this _prove_ that I can take care of myself?”

“You surprised them!”

“And who says I can’t do it again?”

“Probability theory,” he replies. “They now know that they have to look out for you, too. Besides, who says they want a little revenge for what you did, too?”

“I am a big girl, Mike,” she insists. “I can take care of myself.”

“Not against three grizzly bears!”

“Listen, Mike,” she says. “I don’t want to have to stay at home all day, just because you leave with your bodyguards. This isn’t me! I am _not_ a housewife!”

“Oh, so that’s the problem?” He almost laughs out in relief. “I can get you your own bodyguard, don’t you worry. Then you can go out whenever you want. No problem, really.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Mike’s eyes widen in surprise. “But I thought you don’t want to stay at home all day?”

“I don’t,” she confirms. “But don’t you dare to bring one more of these bozos into our home! The ones you have are already too much to take!”

“What about an on call-bodyguard then? When you want to go out you give them a call and …”

“Mike!”

“Yes?” His voice sounds a bit higher than usual because he’s slightly scared. Her face looks so damn serious. He has never seen her like this before. Is she going to break with him? But he loves her! And he knows she loves him, too. Heck, how many girls would drive through the city just to save him from some grizzly bears? That’s why it is so important to him to keep her safe. He owes her his life.

Suddenly she sighs and all the tension melts away from her body.

“Mike, this isn’t what I wanted.” He’s by her side as soon as he sees the tears glistening in her eyes and takes her into his arms.

“I know, babe,” he says as she cries into his chest.

“I just wanted us to have a nice life together,” she goes on, and Mike has to smile a little at the fact that a nice life for Nancy means expensive restaurants and clubs and flowers and jewelry, preferably on a daily basis. But this is Nancy, and if this is what she wants, he’d do anything he can to give it to her.

When she has calmed down a bit, he lets go of her, puts a hand under her chin and forces her to look at him.

Damn, even with mascara smudged all over her face, she’s still the most beautiful girl he has ever set eyes on.

“Look, these bears, they are going to give up one day,” he says, and he sounds so sure it surprises him. If he learned one thing over these past couple of months, it’s that grizzly bears seem to be more resentful than any other animals he has ever met or heard of. But that’s not the point. He needs to make Nancy feel better, so what’s a little lie compared to a happy girlfriend?

“And when this happens,” he continues, “we can have this nice life you long for so eagerly, okay?”

Nancy nods her little head.

“Good,” Mike says as he wraps an arm around her shoulders and leads her over to the couch. “In the meantime, let’s order some food from your favorite restaurant, and tomorrow, I’ll take you on a little shopping tour. What do you say?”

“Are you going to let them shut the shops down for anyone, but us again? I really liked that.”

“Sure thing!” Mike assures her, and he has no idea why, but he knows that she’s smiling now.

Mission “Happy Girlfriend” accomplished, he thinks.

And so he smiles, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that everyone had their own chapter to shine, I am not going to stick to a strict order. I'll write the chapters coming up from whatever POV seems good for it. :)


	7. Ash

Ash needs more time to make it to the Moon Theater than she usually does. She’s taking some detours, and although she hates to admit, she does it to make sure Lance isn’t following her.

It makes her feel so stupid! She isn’t one of these girls that are afraid of their ex-boyfriend because he did something terrible like beating them up or something.

Yes, Lance did something terrible - he cheated on her -, but he never raised a hand against her. Lance would never do such a thing. She knows him long enough to be able to say that for sure.

But still she feels haunted and uncomfortable, and she doesn’t like it at all.

On her way up the steps, someone calls her name.

She sighs when she realizes it’s Johnny’s voice, not Lance’s.

She stops to wait for him.

“Hello, Ash!” Johnny greets her with a smile. “What brings you to the Moon Theater? Haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Ash twists her mouth at this and sets into motion again. Johnny walks up beside her.

“Well, Johnny, as you might know, I’m working on my first album. These things take time!” she says, not even trying to keep the anger out of her voice.

“Uh, sorry,” Johnny says as he holds the door open for her. “I didn’t mean to … uhm …”

He breaks off mid-sentence, and Ash, already through the door, stops to look at him. He’s still standing there, holding the door open. His eyes are on her and he seems trying to find the right words.

Thing is, Ash realizes, there is no such thing as right words.

She’s just annoyed that her album isn’t coming together as she had planned it to. And she’s even more annoyed that she met Lance today. And the fact that it was Mike - Mike, for heaven’s sake! - who helped her out just makes her want to scream.

But none of this is Johnny’s fault.

He looks so forlorn, somehow frozen in the movement, that Ash really wants to slap herself.

Instead she closes her eyes and raises a hand to her forehead, slowly rubbing over it before she pushes against the spot between her eyes with her thumb. It feels like a terrible headache is forming up right there.

“I’m sorry, Johnny,” she says with a sigh. “Really sorry.” She opens her eyes and looks at him again. “None of this is your fault.”

“No, it’s fine,” Johnny replies as he finally starts moving again and walks up to her. “I guess I should have thought of that.”

“No, no, how could you know I’m … “ - _stuck_ is the word on her mind, but she catches her tongue just in time - “... not getting this together as fast as I want to?”

“Songwriting is hard,” he says, as they start to walk towards the rehearsal rooms together. “Or so I’ve been told.”

“Yes, it is,” Ash agrees with a sigh.

“Anything I can do?”

“Afraid not,” she replies. “But thanks for asking.”

“Anytime.”

They have reached the rehearsal room Buster Moon told Ash she can use whenever she wants now, and Ash opens the door.

“What about you, Johnny?” she asks.

Johnny shrugs. “Just some rehearsals today. Have a concert coming up together with Meena, and Mr. Moon is working on a new show he wants me to be in. That’s all.”

“That’s _all_?” she repeats. “You make that sound like it’s nothing when it’s actually a lot!”

Johnny shrugs again. “I guess? You have more experience in this industry than I do.”

This sends a pang to Ash’s heart. It reminds her of the time she started her singing career - together with Lance, him being the band leader, the artist, the pro, and her being the background singer, the embellishment, the worker. All this time she was there for him and then he threw it all in her face!

She feels the anger rising in her chest again, feels the bitter taste these thoughts leave in her mouth. She swallows it all down, trying really hard to not let it out on Johnny again.

“Ash?” he asks, and she realizes she must have been quiet for a while. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she replies, trying her best to force her mouth into a smile.

“Okay.” He doesn’t sound convinced, but he doesn’t say anything else, so she’s fine with it.

“Well, we better get to work,” she says, stepping into her rehearsal room. “See you, Johnny!”

“Bye, Ash!”

Once the door is closed, she takes a deep breath, asking herself for the hundredth time why Lance had to show up today of all days.

But really, does it matter? If he’d shown up yesterday or tomorrow, would that make her feel any better?

She doubts it.

She places her guitar case on the ground, opens it and takes her guitar out.

Maybe some music will do the trick.

She starts with some riffs, and before she knows it she’s in the middle of her song “Set It All Free”. It doesn’t fail to make her feel better, but the bitter taste won’t leave her mouth, so she tries her luck in singing even louder, playing the guitar for all it’s worth.

She’s out of breath once the song is finished, but she doesn’t feel that much better. A little bit better, but not enough to make the bitter taste and the anger go away.

For a moment, she thinks of singing it again, but she came here to work on her album, so she settles in on the floor with her guitar and her laptop.

She plays a few chords, but they sound as wrong as they did in her apartment. She’s this close to dash her guitar against the wall.

Again, that wouldn’t change anything, would it?

She closes her eyes with a sigh.

When she opens them again, she finds Ms. Crawly standing in the door to her rehearsal room.

“Oh, hello, Ms. Crawly,” she says quickly.

“Hello, Ash,” the iguana greets her back. “I just brought Johnny a cup of hot chocolate. You want one, too?”

“Yes, please,” Ash says. “I could need one.”

“That’s what I thought,” Ms. Crawly replies, turning around and leaving so slowly, Ash doesn’t know if she’s going to get her hot chocolate soon.

But really, what does it matter? It’s the thought that counts.

She still has no idea for her next song, so she plays “Set It All Free” again, and somehow, this time it makes her feel a lot better than before.


	8. Rosita

Rosita had it figured out pretty soon when she and Meena became friends that the teenage elephant likes baking. It seems to cheer her up when she’s down. And even when someone else is down or she just wants to give someone a treat, she bakes. Sometimes, she even bakes a cake or muffins or cupcakes just because she feels like it.

So it is no surprise that Meena’s mother sends her right to the kitchen when she arrives at their house.

It was a bit weird the first few times when Rosita came by to visit Meena because actually, she’s more the age of Meena’s mother, but the thing is, there are a few things Meena’s mother doesn’t really understand when it comes to music and performances. So the elephant pretty soon accepted Rosita in their house as Meena’s friend.

Rosita still feels a bit awkward, but she shrugs it off. She’s here to help Meena, and as soon as she enters the kitchen it is obvious that she didn’t arrive a minute too soon.

The kitchen is a battlefield of baking ingredients and bakewares. Rosita can see muffin forms on the kitchen table right next to cake pan, both covered in flour.

The pig suppresses a sigh. If Meena hasn’t even decided what to bake yet, her assistance truly is needed here.

She doesn’t say anything when she walks up to the kitchen counter. Given Meena’s excellent sense of hearing, the teenager knows she’s here anyway.

Rosita shoves one of the kitchen chairs over to the counter and climbs it.

Then she looks at Meena for the first time.

The teenage elephant has her eyes lowered, holding a bowl in her massive hands while using her trunk to stir dough with a mixer.

For a moment, Rosita thinks of asking Meena what’s wrong right away, but that would be too soon. Meena needs time before she opens up and actually talks, and Rosita decides to give her the time she needs.

“So,” she says in an as cheerful voice as she can muster up, “what are we baking today?”

“I… I…,” Meena stutters before she turns off the mixer and looks at the dough. “I don’t know.”

“How about some chocolate chip cookies?” Rosita suggests. “My kids love them! Think we can make enough so I can bring them some?”

Meena turns her head to look at Rosita.

“Sure,” she says, and while it still sounds sad it doesn’t sound as sad as before.

“Good,” Rosita replies, pretending to roll up her sleeves which is kind of unnecessary since she’s wearing her usual short-sleeved blouse, but she does it to emphasize her words. “Let’s get to work!”

* * *

“I don’t think you need to worry that much, Meena,” Rosita says as they are seated at the kitchen table, each of them having one steaming cup of tea in their hands. “If Mr. Moon said he’s going to help you, then he’s going to help you.”

Rosita never fails to wonder how what an amazing job baking does to Meena. Once the cookies were in the oven, the teenager started talking about the upcoming interview and her worries and how everything could go downhill really easily.

“But it’s national TV!” Meena replies. “That’s huge!”

“Granted, it’s not nothing,” Rosita admits. “But I am sure you can handle it. If Mr. Moon thinks you can, I am positive you can. He’s the one who got you singing in front of an audience after all.”

“Yeah, but … but that’s not singing, that’s _talking_!”

“You know what?” Rosita says. “You stop worrying for a bit and wait what Mr. Moon has planned to help you out. And if that doesn’t work, then you can worry. Sounds like a plan?”

“Well, uhm, I can try.”

It’s obvious Meena isn’t convinced. And it is obvious that she isn’t going to stop worrying, but if she only worries a little less, it’s still more than Rosita got when they started talking.

“Good.” Rosita smiles. “Now let’s see how these cookies are doing, shall we?”

Meena just nods in reply.

* * *

Rosita wishes she knew how to bring the tour up to Norman. Why can’t it be as easy as it was with Gunter?

She had called Gunter on her way home, and as expected, he has been psyched and kept talking about “piggy power” and “feeling zhe music”. But Rosita is one-hundred percent sure that Norman isn’t going to be psyched, rather the opposite.

So all the way through dinner, giving out Meena’s cookies as dessert and getting the kids ready for bed, she was thinking about the right way to bring it up. And now the kids are fast asleep and Rosita enters the kitchen again to help Norman with the dishes, and she still has no idea how to say what she has to tell him.

Norman already is at the kitchen sink, wearing an apron and doing the dishes. Rosita grabs a clean dishtowel and positions herself next to her husband, drying the dishes he’s handing her.

They are doing their work in silence, and Rosita’s brain is still working really hard to think of the right way.

“I had a meeting with Mr. Moon today,” she finally says.

Norman just mumbles something that sounds like approval.

“My show is really successful,” she goes on. Her heart starts pounding in her chest. Why is this so hard? “And that’s why …” - she takes a deep breath - “...that’s why he’s sending it on a tour all across the country.”

“I see,” Norman says.

Rosita blinks a few times. That’s all? No protest? No nothing!?

“Who’s taking your place?” Norman goes on, and Rosita understands why he’s so calm. He didn’t get what she meant.

She lowers her eyes to the dish in her hand. “No one,” she whispers.

“What!?”

When Rosita turns to face him, she finds him staring at her with wide eyes, frozen in movement. Now that’s more the reaction she’s been expecting. She’s almost glad.

“What does that mean, Rosita?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“It means that no one is taking my place because I am going on tour with this show.”

“You have to be kidding me!” Norman bursts out. “Without even asking me? Without even thinking about your family?”

“I have been thinking about my family!” Rosita replies as she feels the anger rising in her chest. “And I thought my family would support me in something as important as my career!”

Norman just shakes his head. He dries his hands on the apron before he pulls it off and throws it over one of the kitchen chairs.

“You can’t say I haven’t been supporting you!” he yells. “I started working part-time so I can look after the kids while you do your singing! Do you know what this is like? You know how they look at me at work? Like I were some henpecked husband! Maybe I am! But I didn’t care because this is so important to you! But this is too much, Rosita! You can’t leave to go on tour just like that and leave me and the kids behind!”

“I never said I’d leave you behind!”

“Then what did you think? You’d have us all packed in the car and drive from city to city behind the tour busses?”

“I … I don’t know that yet!”

“I don’t believe this!” Norman calls out. “In all your interviews in these fancy magazines you talk about how important it is to share the work in a marriage, yet it’s just me who does the work!”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh yes, it is! I look after the kids, I make sure they leave on time to catch their bus to school, I come home early to get dinner done before they arrive! That’s not sharing!”

“But it is!” Rosita yells back. “All these things you mentioned? I was doing them for the past seven years! So for the next seven years it could be you and it would still count as sharing!”

She can feel the tears prickle in her eyes, but she swallows them down.

Norman looks at her with his mouth open, his eyes wide. She doesn’t know if he got it, but she doesn’t care.

She has done the job he seems to hate so much for the past seven years without complaining. She’d been a housewife, a mother, a wife, and yes, she’d loved it. But now she’s a singer, too, and it feels so unfair that Norman is complaining now. Did he think this was going to be a cakewalk when he gave in so easily to support her career? Did he know _nothing_ about how hard it is to raise kids and keep the house nice and tidy?

This just isn’t fair. She has given up her dreams for him, for their family, and now that she has the chance to catch up on it, he starts complaining?

The tears are trying really hard now to break their way free, but Rosita doesn’t want to cry in front of Norman.

He’s still looking at her with that shocked look on his face.

“You know what? I’ll get a hotel room for the night,” Rosita says. She just wants to get away from him for a bit. She needs the distance to wrap her mind around all the things he said. “I’ll be back for breakfast. I don’t want the kids to notice.”

And with that she turns around and leaves.

She can hear Norman call her name, but she doesn’t stop, she just keeps walking, faster and faster, and only a long way down the street does she realize that the tears are running down her cheeks in streams.


	9. Buster

A new morning, a whole new day to work on his new play, Buster thinks as he settles in at his desk. He got up extra early, simply hopping down the steps to his office from the little apartment he had himself made here in the theater. During the rebuilding of the theater he had decided to turn some of the space under the roof into an apartment. It is better than living in one of the drawers of his desk, that’s for sure. He still has all the conveniences of a full apartment - kitchen, bathroom, a living room with a really big TV to play video games with Eddie, a bedroom with an actual bed - and yet, he’s always home. The theater has always been his home, even back in the day when he still owned an apartment near-by.

But being able to stay at home, that is something precious.

He glances at his watch. He asked Ms. Crawly to come in a bit later today because he wanted to show the new secretary around. That was his official explanation. In reality he just doesn’t want to have Ms. Crawly be at the girl’s throat right from the start.

The girl - her name is Lucia - asked about a dress code, but he told her to wear something comfortable. He has this feeling that Ms. Crawly is going to chase her around all over the theater.

Another glance at the watch tells him that he has thirty minutes left to work on his play. Thirty minutes! That’s a whole 1.800 seconds which is a lot! Such a big amount of time! He’s sure he’ll have the next scene figured out by the time Lucia arrives.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the doorman calls to let Buster know that the new secretary is here.

With a twist of his mouth Buster realizes that he has just been staring down a white sheet of paper all these wonderful 1.800 seconds long before he tells the doorman to send the girl to his office.

A few moments later, there’s a soft knock on his door.

“Come in, come in!” he says, shoving the white sheet of paper away.

And in comes a young female snow leopard, wearing a pair of jeans, black sneakers and a short-sleeved black T-shirt.

Yes, this looks comfortable enough so that she’s going to survive a day of being chased around by Ms. Crawly.

“Good morning, Mr. Moon!” the girl says.

“Good morning, Lucia!” he replies. “Or do you prefer Ms. Clawson?”

“Actually, I prefer Cia, if that’s fine with you.”

“Cia it is, then,” he says. “Ms. Crawly should be in in about an hour. Let me give you a tour of the theater first.”

Cia just nods.

When they cross Ms. Crawly’s office he watches Cia from the corner of his eye to see how she reacts to the tower of papers on Ms. Crawly’s desk, but she doesn’t even blink.

Buster decides that’s a good sign.

* * *

“And now we’re back at the office,” Buster says as he opens the door again an hour later.

He immediately sets eyes on Ms. Crawly standing in front of her desk. He doesn’t know if she just arrived or if she just took up station there so she wouldn’t miss when he comes back. The tower of papers on her desk would make it impossible to see him enter from her working place.

“Oh, hello, Ms. Crawly!” he says as cheerful as he can although there’s something in Ms. Crawly’s real eye that sends a cold shiver down his spine.

However, he keeps that smile plastered to his face. “Ms. Crawly, may I introduce Cia to you? Cia, this is Ms. Crawly.”

“Hello, Ms. Crawly!” the snow leopard says in a friendly tone, holding out her hand as she walks up to the iguana.

Buster isn’t sure, but he thinks Ms. Crawly is frowning as she takes Cia’s hand and shakes it.

“Cia? What kind of name is that?” she asks, proving him right.

“It’s short for Lucia,” the girl replies. “I prefer Cia, though.”

“I see.”

“Cia, we don’t have a workstation for you just yet,” Buster says quickly. “Someone is coming later today to set it all up for you. In the meantime, I am sure, Ms. Crawly has some work for you.”

“Indeed I do, Lucia,” Ms. Crawly says. “You can help me organize the binders over there. By color, please.”

Buster turns his head to look at a pile of empty binders in a corner.

Really? There’s this tower of papers on Ms. Crawly’s desk and she wants the new secretary to organize some empty binders by _color_?

But what does he know about office work? Maybe that’s just some sort of a warm-up. At least, he hopes so.

“Will do!” Cia replies. “And it’s Cia, please.”

“Oh yes, of course.” Ms. Crawly shuffles over to her chair, disappearing behind the papers and Cia kneels down to organize the binders.

“And after that, maybe you can organize the sticky notes over there? That’d be great, Lucia.”

“By size? And it’s Cia.”

“No, by color, just like the binders.”

“Will do!”

“Thank you, Lucia.”

“Cia, please.”

Buster decides that now would be a good time to get back to his office and to working on his new play.

Now that Mrs. Crawley has help, the pending work should be done in no time - once all these warm-up work is done, Buster is sure about that.

Although that doesn’t explain why he can feel a terrible headache building up. But maybe that’s just his creativity trying to break free! Yes, this must be it! He can’t get to his desk fast enough. He takes a pencil and a sheet of paper, waiting for the headache to explode into a rush of creativity for the next scene, but instead he can only hear Ms. Crawly and Cia talking.

“You can organize the pencils after that, Lucia.”

“It’s Cia, please.” The girl’s voice doesn’t sound annoyed at all, which - to Buster - is a miracle. If Ms. Crawly got his name wrong all this time he for sure would be annoyed.

“By color?” she asks.

“No, by size of course.”

Buster still waits for his creative fluids to finally start flowing. Instead his headache increases.


	10. Johnny

Johnny is surprised that he didn’t think of this sooner. All day yesterday and most of the night which he spent tossing and turning because his brain wouldn’t want to shut up. He kept thinking about rehearsals and his favorite songs and the youth center he wants to build the garage into, and only at around dawn it hit him.

A charity concert!

He tried to get some sleep after that, but was way too excited. He almost called Mr. Moon right away, but then he remembered that just because he’s awake doesn’t mean everyone else is, too.

So he spent the time until he could dare to show up at the Moon Theater making notes on what the charity concert would be like, of the artists he wants to ask to join - to be precise, the same group that did the concert in the ruins of the old theater, because, to be honest, it’s a great group - and what he wants the youth center to be like in case anyone asks.

In the end he spent more time on this than he intended because now that he’s finally on his way to the theater, it’s almost noon.

But he couldn’t care less. He has an idea and he just needs to talk to Mr. Moon about it. With his help, Johnny is sure the charity concert is going to be a success.

He meets Ms. Crawly on his way up the stairs. That’s a bit unusual. She usually doesn’t leave the theater before office hours ends.

“Hello, Ms. Crawly!” he greets her. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, hello, Johnny!” She smiles at him. “Of course it is!”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“Mr. Moon is so happy with my work he made a reservation at a restaurant for me for lunch.”

“Oh, that’s nice of him. So he’s in?”

“Yes, in his office, as always.”

“Well, then have a nice lunch, Ms. Crawly!”

“Thank you! And Johnny,” - she gestures for him to lean down so she can whisper in his ear - “if you want some hot chocolate, I hide the good chocolate mix in the third drawer of my desk. It’s just for you. Don’t tell the others!”

“I won’t!” he says with a smile. “Thank you, Ms. Crawly!”

“Anytime, Johnny! See you!”

He gently shakes his head on his way up the stairs.

* * *

He rushes into Ms. Crawly’s office, planning on just running over to the door of Mr. Moon’s office so he can talk to him as soon as possible, but his shoulder bumps into something, and there’s a small yelp that somehow confuses him.

He just met Ms. Crawly on the stairs. So who else could be in here?

Johnny quickly looks around and realizes he bumped into a small step ladder and on top of it stands a snow leopard girl, holding on to the ladder as if it were for dear life.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he says quickly, grabbing the ladder to stabilize it. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes,” the girl says, but her eyes are squeezed shut, so he isn’t quite convinced.

Also, she mumbles something that sounds like “Shouldn’t have looked down”.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

He would have asked again, but this moment, the door of Mr. Moon’s office is opened.

“Hello, Johnny! I thought I heard your voice!” The koala looks up at the snow leopard and frowns. “Cia, what are you doing up there?”

“Ms. Crawly said the documents in these binders need to be organized alphabetically,” the girl replies, her eyes still closed and with some hitch in her voice.

“But those are the binders for _accounting_!” Mr. Moon says a little too loudly. “Organizing them alphabetically doesn’t make any sense!”

“I know!”

The koala sighs. “Cia, get down that ladder. I need you to get a hold on Eddie. I have something to talk to him about. He should be backstage somewhere.”

“But Ms. Crawly said…”

“I’ll deal with Ms. Crawly, okay?”

“O-okay.”

And then the snow leopard climbs down the ladder so slowly, setting each foot carefully that for a moment, Johnny thinks Ms. Crawly would have been faster about it.

When he bumped into the ladder he must have scared her to death. It makes him feel guilty, so he remains standing at the ladder and holding it steady until the girl is down.

He can hear her sigh when her feet finally meet the floor, and she opens her eyes, too. Must have been difficult to climb down a ladder with your eyes squeezed shut. But yet again, he was the one who bumped into the ladder, so who is he to judge?

“Johnny, this is Cia,” Buster Moon introduces the girl to him. “Cia, this is Johnny!”

Cia looks at him. “Hi,” she says with a little wave of her hand.

“Hi!” he replies with a smile.

“Cia is helping Ms. Crawly with the office work,” Mr. Moon explains.

“I’ll try to find Eddie now, and if Ms. Crawly comes back …,” Cia starts, but Mr. Moon interrupts her. “I’ll tell her you had to run an errand for me. Don’t worry.”

“Okay, thank you, Mr. Moon! Bye, Johnny!”

“Bye, Cia!” Johnny replies and then Cia is out of the office on her way to find Eddie.

“Sooooooo,” Mr. Moon drawls. “I get it there’s something you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, oh yes, there is!” Johnny says quickly and rushes over to join Mr. Moon in his office.

* * *

“I think a charity concert is a great idea,” Mr. Moon says with an approving nod. “Any ideas how what exactly to do?”

“Plenty,” Johnny replies.

“Artists?”

“The same group back from our first concert. We seem to do well together.”

The koala nods again. “Agreed.”

“So you think it’s doable?”

“Positive. I mean it can boost the theater and all your careers while in the same time it can get you money for your youth center. Do you want it to take place at the garage? This could add some special touch to it.”

“That’s an awesome idea, Mr. Moon! I didn’t think of that!”

“I could come over tomorrow so we can think of a way how it would work best.”

“That’d be great!”

“No fees for the artists, am I right?”

“Correct.”

“Mike isn’t going to like this.”

“No, he isn’t.”

Then Mr. Moon shrugs and they both laugh.

* * *

 On his way home Johnny couldn’t be any happier. He found a way to make the youth center become reality. And he is going to work hard to make it happen. For sure, he is!


	11. Rosita

Rosita sits down on one of the benches in the park, her eyes lowered to the ground. Without lifting her gaze she puts one hand into her bag, rummaging about. She usually has some sweets or gum in there, hasn’t she? And she could really need something sweet right now, candy, a bar of chocolate, way too sweet gum, she’d take anything, anything to make that bitter taste in her mouth go away.

She lets out a frustrated sigh when she can’t find anything. Did she forget to refill after her last trip with the kids? Now that would be a bummer. And so unlike her. She _never_ forgets to refill!

She grabs her bag and places it on her lap, digging deeper into its contents.

Keys, pencils, note pads, purse, all’s there, but _no_ candy!

She’s close to just tip her bag out on the ground because she knows there is some candy in there - there _has_ to be! - when she finally finds some orange candy. Not her favorite, but she couldn’t care less.

She carefully unwraps it and pops it into her mouth, waiting for the sweet taste to take effect.

It doesn’t help as much as she wants it to, but she’s fine with the little neutralizing it does to the bitter taste filling her mouth.

She leans back, leaning her head against the backrest and stares into the sky.

After a night full of crying and recalling the events of last night over and over again, showing up right before breakfast maybe wasn’t her best idea. But she promised and still, she doesn’t want the kids to find out that things are a bit off between her and Norman.

Although she’s kind of surprised they haven’t caught anything already. Right, she and Norman never were lovey-dovey in front of the kids. Well, except for her performance with Gunter in the ruins of the Moon Theater. It’s been the first - and only - time Norman had kissed her like that in front of the kids.

So it wasn’t that hard to pretend that things were normal between them this morning. They just wished each other a good morning, she told him where he had left his car keys and then he even came over and placed a peck on her cheek. Although it did feel totally wrong, it still was a nice gesture of him that he was playing along.

When Norman had left, the morning was the usual routine - her getting the kids ready for school, wishing them goodbye at the door, and then she even did the dishes.

She always does this when her schedule allows it, so how on earth can Norman even think _he’s_ doing all the work? Because, obviously, he isn’t.

She still does so much around the house and for her kids, even for him, when she isn’t busy rehearsing all day. She even does it when she has a show in the evening, and yet, he dares to complain?

Yes, he’s doing more housework than he used to, yes, he’s helping a lot more with the kids, but it’s not like she doesn’t do anything anymore! Not to forget the past seven years where she had done everything!

She feels the anger rise in her chest again, takes in a sharp breath - and chokes on her candy.

It makes her cough.

“Rosita?” a familiar voice asks her. “Are you okay?”

“Y...yes,” she coughs, trying her best to smile at Johnny which only leads to another coughing fit.

He pats her back with a little more force which helps with the coughing, but still it takes her a few moments to recover.

She spits the bonbon into a tissue, just in case. Besides, she didn’t like the taste that much anyway.

“Thanks, Johnny!” she says, and this time she really musters up a smile.

“No problem,” he replies. “You okay now?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” She tries to deepen her smile, but from the look on Johnny’s face she’s doing a poor job.

“I was just choking on my candy, no problem, it’s fine now.” She tries even harder, but Johnny doesn’t look more convinced than before, rather the opposite.

“And the rest?” he asks.

“What rest?” she repeats, forcing her mouth even more into a smile. It’s starting to hurt.

“The rest that led to those red-rimmed eyes and the bags under them,” Johnny says.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” She keeps the smile on her face although the muscles are doing their best to get this fake smile out of there as soon as possible.

“Rosita…”

There’s something in his voice, some warmth, some concern, that makes her mask shatter into pieces within the blink of an eye.

She feels the tears well in her eyes again and buries her face in her hands as her body is shaken by sobs.

“Oh no, Rosita, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

“You … didn’t,” Rosita says between sobs.

“O-okay, come here!”

And she feels how he wraps his arms around her and pulls her into a hug. She lets it happen, although she isn’t happy with it.

“I … am … the older one,” she sobs. “I should be comforting you! Not … the other way round!”

“Shush!” is all he says.

And then Rosita gives in completely, letting her tears flow as Johnny gently rubs her back.

* * *

“I have to say, it’s complicated,” Johnny says.

After what felt way too long for her taste Rosita had finally calmed down and Johnny had sat down next to her on the bench. And then she had told him what had happened between her and Norman.

“Oh, is it?” Rosita says. She never thought of it that way. To her, it’s pretty clear. Norman is just being unfair.

“Well, I understand you, of course,” Johnny goes on. “Because singing is my life and all. But in a way, I understand him, too.” He shrugs. “I guess he’s just overwhelmed with the situation and feels unappreciated? Just my thoughts, though.”

“Unappreciated?” Rosita repeats with a little laugh. “I’ve been doing this job for seven years now, and did he and the kids ever appreciate it? Forget the cards for Mother’s Day. They don’t really count although I do like them. It’s just … well, they didn’t. And I was fine with it. Because this was just how things were.”

“But just because you were fine with it doesn’t mean he has to be, too, you know,” Johnny replies. “People are different.”

Rosita looks at him with a raised brow. “You know you’re pretty wise for your age.”

Johnny rubs his neck and laughs nervously. “If you say so.”

They spend a few moments in silence.

“So what am I going to do now?” Rosita asks.

“I can’t tell you that, but, just an idea, maybe if you and Norman had some alone time, that’ll help? You know, go on a date, some time away from the kids so you can talk.”

Rosita sighs. “Yeah, that could help, but it’s hard to get a babysitter.”

“I can help with that!” Johnny says quickly.

Rosita looks at him again. “You do realize we’re talking twenty-five piglets here, right?”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s okay. I like kids.”

Rosita twists her mouth.

“Really, Rosita, no problem, let me help, please?”

“You already helped me!”

“Then let me help even more?”

Rosita doesn’t feel comfortable with it. This is Johnny, nice and kind and sweet Johnny, and he probably has _no_ idea what he’s getting himself into. Yes, her kids are nice and all, but they can be a handful, even more than one, because, well, they are twenty-five.

But yet again, spending some time alone with Norman, being able to actually talk without having to worry about getting into an argument in front of the kids or only having these small amounts of time to talk when the kids are already asleep, but the two of them are still awake, it really could help.

And it is really hard to reject Johnny, especially when he’s giving her his puppy dog eyes like he’s doing right now. He really wants to help her, and he actually can help her, so wouldn’t she be a fool if she rejected him?

She sighs. “Okay. I’ll call Norman later and let you know. Thank you, Johnny! This is so kind of you!”

“Anytime, Rosita!”

He’s grinning so broadly that for the first time that day Rosita actually feels like smiling. And this time, the smile doesn’t hurt her face at all, on the contrary, it actually feels pretty good.


	12. Mike

“What do you think?” Nancy asks, twirling around in a dark green dress.

“You look amazing, babe,” Mike replies for the felt - or maybe actual - hundredth time.

It’s not even a lie. Nancy looks amazing in each and every color and each and every sort of clothing. Heck, she’d even look amazing in a tow sack.

Nancy smiles at him, and he smiles back at her, and then she walks back to the changing booth, swaying her hips, which, Mike has to admit, he really likes.

He sighs when the salesgirl adds the green dress to the pile of clothes Nancy has chosen to buy today - or let him buy for her, to be more precise.

Which is totally fine. He loves buying nice things for her.

What he doesn’t get is how buying that many clothes can make someone so very happy.

Sure, he likes a nicely tailored suit as much as the next mouse who likes the finer things in life. And he sure has his own little set of tailored suits and hats - emphasis on _little_. What he doesn’t get is how someone could actually need hundreds of dresses, not to mention the other kinds of clothes Nancy owns by now.

But yes, whatever makes his girl happy makes him happy.

And he never gets tired of watching her modelling all kinds of dresses for him.

It’s just - well, he has this pop-up concert coming up in a few days, and he _really_ should be working on the details right now. He already has a bunch of missed calls, but when it’s shopping time with Nancy, he never answers his phone.

He feels his phone buzzing, checking the caller ID.

Well, he _usually_ doesn’t answer his phone when he’s out with Nancy, but he better takes this call.

He feels like someone is watching and finds Nancy peeking out of her changing booth.

“Are you really taking this?” she asks, her mouth twisted.

“I have to, babe,” he replies. “Buster Moon doesn’t call for no reason.”

Nancy twists her mouth a little more before she disappears in the changing booth again.

Mike takes a deep breath. Then he answers the phone.

“Greetings, Mr. Moon!” he says. “What can I do for you?”

 _“Hello, Mike!”_ the koala replies. _“I have some news for you.”_

“Oh?”

 _“Yes, well, you see, Johnny approached me today,”_ Mr. Moon goes on. _“He wants to turn his garage into a youth center, and to get the money for it, we plan on doing a charity concert. He thinks of the old group from back in the day, and this, of course, includes you.”_

“Charity?” Mike repeats doubtingly. He doesn’t like how that sounds. “As in no fees?”

_“Well, actually, yes.”_

Mike blows a raspberry. “Pssht, sorry, Mr. Moon,” he says. “I don’t do charity.”

He glances over to the pile of clothes Nancy has chosen today.

 _I’m not sure I can afford it_ , he adds mentally.

 _“That’s a pity, Mike,”_ Mr. Moon replies. _“This could be a real boost for your career. The fans love it when their idols do charity.”_

“I don’t know, Mr. Moon,” he says. The thought of spending his time for a concert where he doesn’t even get any money out of somehow rubs him the wrong way. Yes, he did it once, back at the concert in the ruins of the Moon Theater. But that was different. He had to make a point back then. And just to be clear, it almost got him eaten by a bear. If Nancy hadn’t shown up … he doesn’t want to think about it.

_“Just think about it and come back to me, okay, Mikey?”_

“Okay. Bye, Mr. Moon!”

_“Bye, Mike!”_

Mike blows another raspberry as he hangs up.

“As if!” he says.

“What was that I heard about charity?”

Mike flinches a bit at the sound of Nancy’s voice this close to him and turns around to look at her.

On a side note, he realizes she’s wearing her black dress again which somehow makes him feel a little relieved.

“Oh yes, Buster Moon asked me about a charity concert,” Mike explains. “Johnny wants to turn his garage into a youth center and they want to set up a charity concert to earn the money.”

“Really?” Nancy’s eyes light up. “Oh, I love charity concerts! They are amazing! And you can show anyone what a kind-hearted guy you are!”

Mike frowns a bit at that. Kind-hearted doesn’t really describe him. Or so he thought.

Nancy looks at him, her eyes wide and sparkling, and he could simply drown in them.

“You are doing this, right, Mike?” Nancy asks, the light in her eyes fading a bit which he doesn’t like. At all.

“Yeah, yeah, sure!” he replies. “I just needed to … uhm … check my schedule. That’s … uhm … what I was about to do, heh-heh!” He gives a nervous laugh, tapping away on his phone in attempt to make it at least look like he’s actually checking his calendar. Which is pretty futile. He doesn’t even know when this charity concert is going to take place.

He keeps up the act for a few moments. “Well, I think I’m available,” he finally says.

“Oh, this is amazing, Mike!” Nancy calls out, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks, babe.”

“Now let me look for a special outfit for the occasion.” And with that Nancy turns around, leaving for the shop floor.

“Heh-heh, take your time, babe!” he calls after her.

As Mike dials Mr. Moon’s number he thinks what actually has just happened.

He, doing a charity concert? A few months ago he would have laughed at the thought, and now, with Nancy, things seem to have changed.

Maybe it is true, he thinks, love brings out the best in people.

He laughs silently and shakes his head.

“Hello, Mr. Moon?” he says as soon as the koala answers the call. “It’s Mike. About that charity concert, count me in.”


	13. Meena

Meena’s dragging her feet as she’s walking over to the Moon Theater. She isn’t sure if it’s because she’s carrying five cake cartons or because she spent all night baking instead of sleeping. She’s tired, no doubt there, but she likes to think that it’s the cake cartons. Although she’s trying really hard to suppress a yawn right now.

Baking with and talking to Rosita has helped her a lot considering the upcoming interview, and she felt alright when Rosita left. But somehow the fear made it back to her head at some point.

Because she had turned the kitchen into a battle field already that day - her mother insisted she’d do the cleaning because Meena had already baked these amazing cookies - she didn’t want to add any more cleaning to her mother’s list. So she went to her room, turned on some music and spent some time just singing. Singing always helps her and it didn’t fail her then either, it’s just that after an hour or so, not even singing could help her ignore the rising panic.

 _Okay, Meena_ , she told herself, _fight the urge to get down to the kitchen and bake and instead_ do _something, something helpful._

And so she grabbed her laptop and looked up some techniques that could help her with her stuttering during interviews. Of course, she found some and then she tried them. She tried speaking in a calm voice which really didn’t help. She usually talks in a calm voice anyway, and still, when she feels the cameras on her she still starts to stutter. So that was off. She tried to think of what to say first and then say it slowly and carefully, but that didn’t help either. The thing is that during interviews she just doesn’t know what to say, and when she tries to say at least _something_ , she stutters.

She kept searching the internet for help for some time, but nothing helped.

So in the end she ended up in the kitchen anyway. In the middle of the night, actually, but when she found her mother in the door of the kitchen looking at her, her mother didn’t say she should turn off the mixer or something. No, instead her mother just smiled at her.

“Go right to bed when you’re done, sweetie,” she said. “I’ll do the cleaning-up in the morning.”

And she gave Meena this warm smile.

Meena just nodded and went on with the baking. She went on and on and at morning, she ended up with five cakes.

She started cleaning up anyway, but when her mother got up she shooed her out of the kitchen and went on.

Meena didn’t realize how tired she actually was. She only found out on her way to the bathroom, but then it was too late. She had school. She somehow managed to get over the day.

The good thing with being a quiet student is that the teachers don’t ask questions when you’re even quieter.

And of course, now that she’s bringing the cakes to the Moon Theater, she still feels very tired. But it’s okay. At least she’s too tired to panic. Much.

She plans on giving one cake to Mr. Moon, of course, one to Ms. Crawly, and one to this new secretary. Johnny usually has rehearsals every day, so she’s going to leave the fourth cake for him. As for the fifth cake, whoever else from the troup - be it Rosita or Gunter or even Mike - can have it.

Then she thinks of Ash. She hasn’t seen her in ages. So maybe she should bring the fifth cake to her. Oh yes, that sounds like a good idea. She’s sure Ms. Crawly would give her the address. And if someone else is claiming the fifth cake she can still bake a new one for Ash.

The thought of baking makes her smile, and with that she enters the Moon Theater.

* * *

“Hello, Ms. Crawly!” Meena says as she enters the office.

“Oh hello, Meena!” the iguana replies.

Meena isn’t surprised to not set eyes on Ms. Crawly again. As always the iguana’s voice comes from behind a tower of papers. So Meena walks around the desk and looks down on Ms. Crawly.

“I baked a cake for you!” she says, grabbing the carton from the top with her trunk and hands it to Ms. Crawly. “And there’s one for Mr. Moon, too.” - She hands another carton to Ms. Crawly. - “Oh, and is Johnny in for rehearsals today?”

“He is tomorrow,” Ms. Crawly replies.

“Then this one is for him,” she says, handing Ms. Crawly another carton.

“That’s so nice of you, Meena!” the iguana replies, although it’s obvious she has some trouble holding three cake cartons.. “Mr. Moon is currently out for lunch, but I’ll leave his on his desk. Or wait. Lucia!”

It’s only then that Meena realizes there’s someone else in this room, and she turns around to find another desk where a snow leopard is seated. This only shows how tired she actually is. She usually doesn’t miss things like another pair of eyes.

“Could you bring this to Mr. Moon’s office please, Lucia?” Ms. Crawly goes on.

“Sure!” the snow leopard says as she gets up and walks over to Ms. Crawly.

She makes a move to grab the carton from the top.

“Not this one!” Ms. Crawly calls out. “The one on top is for Johnny. It’s the one in the middle.”

“Actually, they are all chocolate,” Meena interposes.

“I said the one from the middle, Lucia!” Ms. Crawly repeats, and there’s something in her voice that makes Meena put her ears over her face.

Somehow, the snow leopard manages to get the right carton. She leaves for Mr. Moon’s office.

“So that’s the new secretary?” Meena asks carefully.

“Yes, that’s Lucia,” Ms. Crawly replies. “Nice girl.”

There’s something wrong with that sentence, and it takes Meena a few seconds to realize that Ms. Crawly voice doesn’t go together with the words “nice girl”. Something’s off, but Meena decides not to push it.

“Oh, Ms. Crawly, could you give me Ash’s address? I would like to bring her a cake, too.”

“Of course!” Ms. Crawly places the two cake cartons on a smaller tower of papers and Meena is impressed that she manages to balance them there without making the tower collapse. The iguana looks something up on her computer, then scribbles down on a piece of paper.

“Here you go,” she says, handing it to Meena. “I bet Ash is going to love your cake.”

“I sure hope so,” Meena says.

Then she sees how Lucia gets back to her desk. She takes another carton with her trunk and walks over to her.

“Lucia, right?” she says. “I am Meena. And this cake is for you.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet from you!” She smiles broadly.

“I hope you like chocolate.”

“I love chocolate! Oh, and please call me Cia. I prefer Cia.”

“Okay,” Meena says, returning the smile.

“Lucia,” Ms. Crawly cuts in. “Are you done with the old flyers?”

“Yes, Ms. Crawly,” she says, tapping on a pile of flyers on her desk. “They’re organized by date now.”

“Lucia,” Ms. Crawly, shaking her head. “I told you to organize them by size.”

“But they are all the same size!”

“So?”

There’s something in the way the snow leopard sighs and slouches her shoulder that makes Meena feel sorry for her.

So she puts on an extra warm smile when she says good-bye.

* * *

Out on the street again, Meena takes the paper with Ash’s address out. She realizes that it’s not that far, so she decides to go there by foot.

It’s only then that she realizes that she has no idea if Ash actually likes cake. Sure, Ms. Crawly said that she’s going to love the cake and she probably knows Ash better than Meena does, but what if it was just some pleasantry? What if Ash hates cake? Or if she likes cake, but hates chocolate cake? What if she only eats lemon cake? Or strawberry cake?

And before she realizes Meena is back in the kitchen baking lemon cake. And after that, she’s going to make strawberry cake, just in case.


	14. Ash

Ash glances at her alarm clock and sighs. It’s already evening and she didn’t get anything done today. Yes, she spent all day yesterday at the Moon Theater and sang her songs, but it was kind of stupid. She didn’t write anything, just sang her ten songs, some of them a few times just to give the impression that she was doing something.

Not sure if she fooled anyone, though.

Ms. Crawly gave her that lizard-smile that’s so hard for Ash to read when she brought her her hot chocolate. And Johnny just waved at her when she left, still in the middle of rehearsing.

Ash just wishes she could work that long on her new album. Okay, she’s _trying_ , but sitting there and staring at her computer or her guitar doesn’t really count as working.

Where did her songwriter-drive go, she asks herself for the hundredth time.

She read somewhere that a good night’s sleep could do wonders, so she decided to sleep in today. Really, there’s no use in going back to the Moon Theater or the park. There’s a too high possibility of running into Lance at the park again. As for the Moon Theater, well, she managed to fool them one day and pretend to be working hard on her new album. She’s pretty sure, though, that it would be totally conspicuous if she were playing her ten songs over and over again for another.

No, better not to risk it. It’s better they think of her as an amazing songwriter a little bit longer. The truth will come out soon enough, at the latest when she has to push back the release date of her first album. Which still is way too soon for her taste.

Although, there’s still a chance she’s going to make it, right? She still has some time left, right? She already got the majority of the songs done. The rest should be a cakewalk once inspiration strikes. Which is going to be, well, not today.

She had a plan yesterday evening - to get a good night’s sleep which, for her, meant that she was going to stay in bed until inspiration finally stroke.

So she spent all day lying in bed, waking up in the morning, getting her coffee, then go back to bed, sleep a little more, getting up, taking a shower, getting back to bed, sleep a little more, and so on.

And now it’s evening and the good night’s sleep and sleeping in-plan hasn’t worked out at all.

Ash lets out a frustrated groan.

It’s the moment the doorbell rings.

The female porcupine rolls her eyes.

If that’s Lance, it’d be just her luck, she thinks. But there’s a chance it’s someone else, so she better checks. Which doesn’t mean she has to like it.

With another groan she rolls out of bed and shuffles over to the front door.

She’s relieved when she sees Meena through the door viewer.

At least it’s not Lance.

Actually, it’s kind of nice to see Meena again. She hasn’t seen her in ages.

With a smile she opens the door.

“Hello there, Meena!” she says.

“Hi Ash!” the elephant replies, and it’s only then that Ash realizes she’s carrying three cake boxes.

“I baked you a cake!” Meena goes on, the words leaving her mouth a little too fast. “Well, three cakes, actually. One is chocolate, one lemon, and one strawberry. And if you don’t like those, I can make you another cake!”

It takes Ash a moment to process the words.

“No, no, three cakes are fine,” she says. She ponders for a moment if she should tell Meena that chocolate is her favorite, but then she decides against it. “I love all three kinds. Come in, please.”

And she steps to the side to let Meena in. The elephant follows her invitation.

“Ms. Crawly gave me your address,” Meena explains. “I hope that was okay.”

“Totally!” Ash replies, adding a little more warmth to her smile.

Meena returns the smile and moves on, her steps as careful as always.

“Living room’s on the left,” Ash says, and Meena nods.

Then Ash peeks outside, just in case. No, Lance, isn’t there.

The moment she thinks this, Ash feels the urge to slap her hand against her forehead.

Really, she’s come this far, checking her surroundings for her ex-boyfriend? _Stupid, Ash, stupid!_

And of course, Lance wasn’t there. Really, she’s making a fool of herself here.

The urge of slapping her hand against her forehead comes back, but instead, Ash just closes the door.

“You want some tea, Meena?” she asks, correcting herself just in time or she would have Meena offered some coffee. But Meena is already nervous enough in everyday-life. No need to add caffeine to that.

“Yes, please!” comes the reply.

* * *

Ten minutes later they are both seated on Ash’s couch, sipping tea and eating chocolate cake.

Ash isn’t very fond of tea. She always has some at home, but if she had the chance, she’d always choose coffee. She manages to swallow her tea, though, and the chocolate cake - which tastes amazing, by the way - helps a lot.

“So, what are you up to, Meena?” Ash asks.

Meena flaps her ears over her face, a gesture Ash remembers from their time together at the Moon Theater.

“N-not much,” the elephant girl says quickly. “Just … uhm ... “ She breaks off.

“Yes?” Ash asks.

Meena sighs. “I … I have an interview coming up next week. Mr. Moon set it up. It’s national TV!”

“Oh, this is great, isn’t it?”

“That’s what everyone’s trying to tell me,” Meena says.

“But I just saw you on TV a little while ago in an interview,” Ash says. “You were great.”

“Yes, because they cut my stuttering into sentences!”

“Oh.” Ash bits down her lip. Meena sounds so stressed, she doesn’t really know what to do.

Then an idea dawns on her. “But they can do it again, right?”

“No!” Meena replies, and she sounds even more stressed than before. “It’s going to be live!”

“Oh.” Now Ash is out of ideas.

She wracks her brain for something to say, some words that are going to make Meena feel better. To win a little time she takes a sip of her tea, not really liking the taste. Then she remembers something.

“Well, think of how you’ve overcome your stage fright,” she says. “I bet you can do it again.”

“But that’s singing!” Meena replies. “I love singing! I’ve just never been much of a talker.”

The elephant lowers her eyes.

So much for her plan of making Meena feel better. The urge to slap herself is back, but Ash ignores it.

“You know what?” she says then. “If Mr. Moon thinks you can do it, I think it too. And so there are two animals already thinking you can do something you think you can’t do. And since we live in a democracy, I’d say you have to go with the majority.” She winks at Meena.

Meena looks at her for a moment, and then she laughs, silently, but still. Ash likes how that sounds.

Okay, it took her a little longer than she intended, but Meena seems to feel a bit better.

“So, what about you, Ash?” the elephant asks. “How’s your album coming along?”

Speaking of things that take her longer than intended...

Ash flinches inwardly, hoping it doesn’t show on the outside, too.

“It’s … coming along,” she says with a shrug that, she hopes, looks as casual as she wants it to. “I have ten songs already.”

“That’s great!” Meena calls out. “And the rest?”

Another inward flinch that Ash hopes she can hide. “I am … working on them.”

“And how are you doing?”

Really, since when does Meena ask that many questions? It’s unlike her to do that, isn’t it?

Ash opens her mouth to say just that, before she catches her tongue just in time. She closes her mouth with a snap.

Her frustration with songwriting isn’t Meena’s fault. Bad enough that she snubbed at Johnny because of it, she doesn’t need a repetition with another friend.

“Not as fast as I want to,” she admits.

“Writer’s block?” Meena asks.

Ash looks at her with wide eyes. Really, when did Meena join the Sherlock Holmes-fan club? Not even Johnny got it that Ash is suffering from writer’s block. Or maybe he did and just didn’t say anything. Which would be very much like Johnny.

“Kind of,” Ash replies with a shrug. She just hopes it looks casual again.

“Oh, it will pass,” Meena says. “I, for one, think you are going to do great and write an amazing album. And at the top of my head I can think of at least three more animals who are going to agree.”

Johnny, Rosita, Mr. Moon - Ash knows who Meena means although she doesn’t say it.

“And since we live in a democracy, I’d say you have to go with the majority,” Meena goes on and adds a little wink.

“Touché!” Ash says with a little laugh.

They clink their cups. When Ash takes another sip of her tea, she still doesn’t like the taste. But really, who cares?


	15. Johnny

Johnny is _not_ nervous. It has nothing to do with the fact that Mr. Moon is going to show up any minute now to check the garage for the concert that the gorilla is pacing up and down in the garage.

No, there must be another reason, like, well, maybe he needs some exercise?

Johnny stops for a moment, slapping his hand against his forehead and letting it slide down.

Who is he trying to fool? He _is_ nervous. What if Mr. Moon tells him that the garage isn’t suitable for a concert? Sure, they could do the concert at the Moon Theater, but that just wouldn’t be the same. Not for him, at least. He wants to give the garage a new purpose, like, right now, and the concert would be an amazing start for this.

“Hello?” a voice asks, and Johnny realizes it’s not Mr. Moon’s. “Johnny?”

“Over here!” he calls out and turns around, setting eyes on Cia.

He doesn’t know if he looks disappointed - because, really, he isn’t; rather surprised - or if she just wants to give an explanation, but she says, “Sorry, Mr. Moon had a last minute-meeting coming up with Nana Noodleman. So he sent me to take some notes on what you’ve planned. He wants you to show up after rehearsals today to go over them.” She takes a notebook and a pen out of her bag.

“Oh, I see,” he replies. “Better not to mess with Nana Noodleman.”

“That’s what Mr. Moon said, too.” Cia gives a little laugh.

“Have you met her?”

“Not yet.”

“Lucky you!”

“That bad?” She frowns a little at that.

Johnny shrugs. “You’ll see.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh a little.

“Okay, shall we get started?”

“Sure!”

“Good, let’s start on the roof!”

“The roof?” There’s something in her voice and in her eyes he can’t quite place, but it doesn’t seem right. But maybe she’s just surprised.

“Yes, for a little billboard, some lights, just adding a little extra, you know.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t sound convinced, but Johnny decides to just show her his idea. So he wents up the stairs to the rooms he and his father’s used as an apartment and from there up the roof. She’ll get it once he shows it to her, he’s sure about that.

Once he’s up the little staircase up to the roof and enters the rooftop, he realizes he must have gone a little too fast because it takes Cia a few moments to catch up with him.

“Okay,” he says once Cia is up on the roof, too, as he steps over to the roof edge. “I want the billboard to be here, and some lights here to put on a little light show before we start the concert. What do you think?”

It’s only then that Cia is still standing close to the door leading to the roof.

“Good idea! I like it!” she says, her voice sounding a little off.

“But you can’t see anything from back there. Come over here!”

“No, thanks, I can imagine it.”

“Oh, come on, Cia! Really you need to see it!” He really wants her to give Mr. Moon the best impression of what he has in mind. And for this, she needs to step closer to the edge. How else is she supposed to get how great a light show would look here? He really isn’t that pushy, but this is important!

“Okay.” Cia finally moves closer, and he smiles at her.

As soon as she’s close enough to look down over the edge, he says, “Just imagine it! Colorful lights going over the people as they wait for the concert to begin.”

He points down the street, slowly following the path he wants the lights to go.

Cia inhales sharply. He takes it as a sign that she gets the idea.

“Amazing!” she says quickly. “Let me take some notes.”

When he turns to her, he realizes she has taken a few steps back, scribbling down in her notebook.

He twists his mouth. Did she really get the whole picture?

“What do you have planned for the garage itself?” Cia asks, not looking up from her notebook.

He really wants to tell her more about the lights and the billboard, but he decides he’s been pushy enough for a day - or a week.

“Let me show you,” he says, setting into motion towards the door. Cia follows him immediately.

* * *

“Okay, let’s see if I got this right,” Cia says. “The stage is over there.” - She points at the area he’s shown her. - “There’s going to be a little buffet over there.” - Again, she points at the right area. “And you want the sliding door to stay open, so more people can come and hear the music from the street. Also, you want to close the road for traffic.”

Johnny nods eagerly. “Sounds okay?”

Cia nods, too. “To me, it does. But Mr. Moon is the expert, you know.”

“Yes, yes, I do,” says Johnny, and he feels the nervousness coming back. Cia might like his ideas, but what if Mr. Moon says it’s not doable?

“So, that’s it?” Cia asks.

“Yes,” Johnny replies, and Cia closes her notebook with a clap. When she looks up at him, she frowns.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Really?”

He can only guess that the insecurity must have shown on his face, and so he rubs his neck.

“I guess I’m just a little nervous that it’s not gonna turn out the way I imagined it,” he admits.

“Oh, don’t worry! The idea is great! And I bet Mr. Moon is going to find a way to make this happen.” She smiles at him.

She has a point, Johnny has to admit. “Yeah,” he says, returning the smile.

“I better get going,” Cia says then. Johnny wonders if he’s been staring.

“I’ll leave for the Theater in ten minutes anyway. Want a ride back?” he asks. She came all the way out here, sure, it’s her job, but still, that doesn’t mean he can’t be grateful, right?

“I’d love to!” Cia says. “But I have to run an errand for Eddie. I don’t know why he needs all this stuff, but it has something to do with Meena and an interview.” She shrugs. “Or do you know why Eddie would need a tiger mask for that?”

“Not the slightest,” he replies. It’s the truth. He has absolutely no idea. On the other hand, it’s Eddie, so who knows?

“Okay, I guess we’ll have to wait and see then. See you at the theater, Johnny!”

“Bye, Cia!”

* * *

When Cia is gone, Johnny takes one more tour through the garage. Did he think of everything? Is there something else that needs to put into consideration?

It’s only then that he finds the piece of paper on the ground. He picks it up to check what it is, and he’s kind of surprised when it turns out to be poem.

What’s a poem doing in the garage? Last time he checked, his father didn’t write poems, neither did one of his gang members.

He then remembers that Cia has been standing there. So is this hers? Did it fall out of her pocket?

Before he can stop himself, he reads the poem. It’s about someone who has to wear a mask so no one would see how they really feel, who they really are. Because they can never be what everyone wants them to be, they can only keep up the act.

The words speak to him. Only then he realizes that this is something personal. Maybe he shouldn’t have read it.

He stuffs the piece of paper into his pocket with the intent to give it back to Cia later. He needs to apologize, of course, for reading the poem. Although it doesn’t change the fact that he really likes it.


	16. Buster

The thing Buster hates about last minute-meetings with Nana Noodleman is that they are _last minute_. And the fact that they are meetings with _Nana Noodleman_ doesn’t make things any easier. So it might be legit to say that he hates _everything_ about last minute-meetings with Nana Noodleman. Period.

Meetings with Nana Noodleman are difficult even when he knows about them for days.

Yes, he and the old diva get along better now, but that doesn’t mean she’s friendlier, especially not when it comes to funding a new show. The success of _Dreaming the Singer’s Dream_ made her more open to fund his next show, too, but now she wants to see progress at least every two weeks. Unless she calls for a last minute-meeting. Then she wants progress _right now_.

Buster managed to get on her good side by telling her about the nationwide tour of _Dreaming a Singer’s Dream_ . And when she asked about the play he’s recently working on he didn’t actually lie. He just extended the truth by telling her that he’s making great progress with the writing since their meeting last week. _Great_ was the part where he extended the truth because, really, even two sentences are progress, right?

Then he told her about what he has planned for the squids to do during his new show. Nana Noodleman loves the squids. So Buster is doing his best to include them the best way he can. He even improved his squid-powered stage when they rebuild his theater. The stage is a normal stage most of the time, but the panels can be removed and then there it is, the first squid-powered stage in theater-history! Well, second, actually, if he counts in his first attempt on it. Which he shouldn’t. Not after what the poor construction did to his beloved theater. But the new stage is amazing, and he loves every bit of it. And so does Nana Noodleman.

So he went on about the squids and the different formations and colors, and it did the trick. Nana Noodleman didn’t ask about the status of his new show again.

He couldn’t help to release a deep sigh of relief once he was out of her mansion, though.

He just hopes Cia did a good job getting together all the necessary information for Johnny’s charity concert. But really, why shouldn’t she? She’s been doing a great job so far, even managed to get some of the work on Ms. Crawly’s desk done when the iguana was out for lunch or just not looking. And that although Ms. Crawly does all she can to make office life hell for the snow leopard-girl.

He has to admit, he’s a little bit amazed by Cia’s endurance. He can only guess, but every other secretary her age would have quit by now.

Well, better for him, right? And for his theater - which is even more important.

He hums a little melody as he walks back to his theater - or, to be more precise, home.

* * *

“Well, I guess Johnny thought about everything,” Buster admits as Cia is done with her explanations and showing him the little sketches and notes she made. She doesn’t seem to be that good at drawing, but he can imagine what Johnny meant when she explains them to him.

The only thing he doesn’t get is why she went over the details for the roof so quickly. To him, it sounded important, and Johnny’s ideas for the roof are rather ambitious. But hey, she gave him all the necessary details, so who is he to judge on _how_ she presented them?

“I guess so,” Cia says with a little shrug. “There wasn’t anything else I could think of. Johnny will come in after rehearsals to hear your opinion on this.”

Buster nods. “Good. Thank you, Cia!”

“You’re welcome!” And the young snow leopard turns around and leaves for her desk.

Buster waits till the door shuts closed behind her before he reaches into his drawer for a pen and paper. He better continues working on his new play so next time he has a meeting with Nana Noodleman, he doesn’t have to talk about squids ninety percent of the time. Not that he couldn’t pull it off - again -, but it’d be better if he could actually show Nana Noodleman some progress.

He stares down on the sheet.

_Just a few notes, Buster_ , he tells himself. _If you can distract Nana Noodleman by talking about squids for most of your meeting, you for sure can take a few notes for the next scene. Now come one! Do it!_

When he looks at his clock again, he realizes he has been staring down on the piece of paper for ten minutes straight.

Before he can stop himself, he lets out a frustrated groan.

Well, there’s still time left until Johnny shows up. He’s sure he’ll get something done by then.

* * *

However, when he hears Johnny greet Ms. Crawly and Cia, there are still no notes on the piece of paper, just pure, sheer whiteness. He crumples it up anyway, just because it might make him feel better. Which it doesn’t.

As he tosses the paper into the bin, Johnny enters his office, and Buster puts on a smile, although he’d prefer to scream in frustration.

“Johnny!” he says way too cheerfully. “How are you, boy?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Moon,” the gorilla replies in his usual gently voice. “How are you?”

“Great, great.” He broadens his smile to hide the fact that he’s anything, but great.

“Did Cia show you my plans for the concert?”

Is it just him or did Johnny’s voice sound a little insecure?

“She did.” Buster finally manages to get his thoughts away from the empty piece of paper and to the charity concert, and his fake smile turns into a real one. Because a concert, no, a charity concert! That’s great, right? That’s something he can organize, right?

It’s the moment he realizes he could have told Nana Noodleman about the concert, too, and just catches his hand before it impacts on his forehead. Well, at least now he knows what he’s going to tell her about during their next meeting. If he doesn’t get any writing done on his new play. Which he would. For sure.

“So?” Yes, there’s no doubt there, Johnny does sound insecure.

Buster’s smile turns into such a big grin, the corners of his mouth start to hurt.

“I think all your ideas are great,” he says.

“So it’s doable?” Johnny asks, still with some insecurity in his voice.

“Yes, it is.”

“Yes!” Johnny calls out, doing a joyful leap and punching the air.

It makes Buster laugh silently.

“And I’ve talked to all your fellow performers. They’re in.”

“Even Mike?” Johnny asks.

“Even Mike,” Buster confirms.

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to laugh. “What did you do? You didn’t sell your soul or something?”

“No, no, I can be very convincing if I have to.” Actually, Buster has no idea what made Mike change his mind, but well, never look a gift horse in the mouth.

Buster opens his mouth to say something about how great charity concerts are for a singer’s career and that Mike must have realized that, he hears Ms. Crawly address Cia.

“Lucia, be a dear and fetch me that pink binder over there?” the iguana says.

He doesn’t know why, but this makes the words get stuck in his mouth and he listens to what happens next.

Johnny looks at him with a frown, but he couldn’t care less. He has a bad feeling about this.

“There is no pink binder, Ms. Crawly,” Cia replies.

“Isn’t there or are you just not looking hard enough?”

Buster flinches inwardly, and even Johnny’s eyes widen in surprise at the angry undertone in Ms. Crawly’s voice.

“No, really, Ms. Crawly,” Cia insists, “no pink binder there.”

“Oh? And what about this one?”

“That’s purple.”

“Well, it looks pink to me.”

Johnny’s eyes grow even wider, and Buster decides he has to intervene.

“Excuse me for a second,” he says to Johnny who doesn’t do as much as nod, and gets up. Once in the secretary’s office he finds Ms. Crawly holding up a purple binder in some sort of a triumphant gesture.

He has to give it to Cia. She doesn’t look as close to scratching Ms. Crawly’s eyes out as he expected her to. Actually, she looks rather calm, although a bit annoyed.

“Cia, would you be so nice to get down and help Eddie with the setup for Meena’s interview training tomorrow?” he asks.

“Sure!”

“But Mr. Moon …,” Ms. Crawly starts, but he cuts in before she can go any further. “As for you, Ms. Crawly, could you make me some coffee? Oh, and hot chocolate for Johnny.”

The iguana’s face lights up a bit at the mention of Johnny, and Buster is relieved that his plan worked out.

“Of course, Mr. Moon,” Ms. Crawly says.

By the time she finishes the sentence, Cia is already out of the office.

When Buster is back in his office Johnny looks at him with such wide eyes, he’s afraid they might fall out of his face any second.

“What was _that!?_ ” the gorilla asks.

“Office life as it is around here nowadays,” Buster explains with a sigh.

Johnny’s eyes grow even wider, and the koala decides to change the topic before the eyes falling out-part finally happens.

“So about this charity concert,” he says as matter-of-factly as he can. “Maybe we should start thinking about a date.”

And this plan works out just as fine as his plan with Ms. Crawly just a few moments ago.

Johnny’s eyes go back to normal size.

“Sure!” he says with a smile.


	17. Rosita

Rosita sighs as she hangs up the phone. Well, at least she and Norman have been able to agree when they would meet. The only thing that Rosita doesn’t like is that it’s going to be on Friday.

Yes, Johnny said he would babysit, but she doesn’t want to impose on his kindness. Friday nights are for dates, aren’t they? And Johnny is so nice and sweet, he for sure must be out on a date on Friday night.

Yet she doesn’t remember him talking about any dates. Which isn’t that unusual. Johnny never talks about himself. Music, yes, how the others from their group are doing, yes, but what’s up with him? Only when he’s asked.

And Rosita has to admit, she sometimes forgets to ask. Yes, it’s probably because there’s so much going on in her life right now, but that’s just an excuse.

She makes a mental note to amend.

But it doesn’t help her with her recent situation. Norman insisted that they meet on Friday for dinner because that way, he wouldn’t have to think about work so much with the weekend just around the corner.

It’s not that Rosita doesn’t understand him. It’s just that she wishes she would know more about Johnny’s plans for Friday. His _true_ plans. Because if she asks him now to babysit, he’d say he’s free for certain.

Maybe if she would have called Norman when she intended to call him - right after talking to Johnny in the park - she’d feel better because it wouldn’t be so close to Friday, but when she had looked at her phone that day, it didn’t feel right to call him. And it didn’t feel right to talk to Norman after dinner at home. Or in the next day after breakfast. It took her too long to realize that everything felt wrong. And maybe, just maybe it has something to do with the fact that she’s spending her nights at the hotel now. At least she realized today, swallowed down the not-right feeling and called Norman.

She still doesn’t like that it’s Friday, but her alternatives would have been Saturday or Sunday which felt even more wrong. And to be honest, it can’t be changed now, Rosita finally decides. Although she still doesn’t like it.

But Johnny was right about one thing - she and Norman need to talk. And if Friday is the best time to talk to Norman, then so be it.

With another sigh she grabs her phone and dials Johnny’s number.

“Hello, Johnny!” she says as cheerful as she can when the call is answered. “It’s Rosita. I just talked to Norman, and we decided to meet on Friday night.”

 _“That’s great, Rosita,”_ Johnny says.

Rosita listens very closely if she can hear any hint of disappointment in his voice, anything that tells her that she ruins his plans for Friday night.

She can’t find anything.

“So, if you’re still free on Friday, that’d be great,” she says.

Rosita pricks up her ears even more. She wants to be sure that she doesn’t miss any discord in the music of Johnny’s voice, as slight as it may be, that tells her that he did have plans for Friday.

 _“I am,”_ Johnny says, and his voice sounds as friendly and calm as always.

“Really?” Rosita asks. “It’s okay if you have plans, Johnny. I’ll find someone else” - actually, she doubts that - “if you are otherwise engaged.”

_“No, Rosita, really, I’m free.”_

Again, she listens closely, again, there’s no sign of disappointment.

Rosita can’t say she isn’t happy about it.

“Good.” She nods. “I’ll fill you in on the details on Friday, okay?” Then a little wave of doubt runs through her.

“You sure you can handle it?” she asks.

 _“Yes, Rosita, I’m sure,”_ Johnny replies with a little laugh.

“Okay.” Rosita sighs. “Thank you, Johnny!”

_“You’re welcome, Rosita!”_

The female pig ends the call. She still isn’t sure if Johnny has an idea how much work babysitting twenty-five piglets actually is. But it can’t be changed now.

Also, if Johnny believes he can do it, shouldn’t she believe in him, too? She probably should. Although it’s not that easy. It’s twenty-five piglets after all. Twenty-five. Period.

Rosita closes her eyes and takes one deep breath.

Besides, there are other things she needs to take care of.

She dials another number on her phone.

“Hello, Gunter?” she asks as soon as the other pig picks up. “It’s Rosita. Hey, are you free for some shopping this afternoon?”

* * *

“What about zhis, Rosita?” Gunter asks, holding up a golden sequin dress. “It’s hot, no?”

It’s the third sequin dress Gunter has chosen and Rosita is starting to think that asking him for help to find the perfect dress for her dinner with Norman could have been a bad idea.

“It is,” she replies. “For stage. Not for a dinner with my husband.”

Gunter looks the dress over one more time.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Gunter.”

Gunter gives a little shrug and hangs the dress back.

“Maybe we should go for less stage-y and more candle-light dinner?” she suggest, although she isn’t sure if the words _less stage-y_ even exist in Gunter’s word pool.

“But sequins are great for candle-light dinner, no?”

Rosita decides to take a different approach. Problem is she can’t think of one.

“Well, Norman has seen me so much in sequins lately because of my costumes, I want to try something else, okay?”

Yes, this could work.

Gunter frowns, and Rosita wracks her brain for a different explanation, when he smiles.

“Got you,” he says with a wink. “No sequins, but still hot. Difficult, but we can do it.” He does a little dance and bumps his hip into Rosita. “Because we are Rosita and Gunter, and zhat’s major piggy power!”

Rosita laughs, releasing the breath she’s been holding when Gunter dances away to find a new dress for her.

* * *

Now this looks nice, doesn’t it? Rosita checks her reflection in the mirror. She’s wearing a black dress, short and rather simple. Too simple, how Gunter told her five times at least, but she likes it. When she’s not on stage, she always prefers simple.

“So what do you think?” she asks, stepping out of the changing booth.

Gunter looks her over. “You look nice, Rosita,” he says, and Rosita waits for him to say something about the simpleness of the dress. Instead, he holds out his hand, showing her a necklace that looks more like a collar. Of course, there are tons of sequins on it, silver, this time.

“Try zhis,” Gunter says.

Rosita mentally rolls her eyes, but takes the necklace-collar-thing anyway to put it on.

Her eyes widen when she looks at herself in the mirror now.

“See?” Gunter says. “Now it’s perfect!”

“Yes,” Rosita replies, still surprised by how well this sequin-collar goes with her dress, how it adds a little extra to the simple dress. “Yes, it is.”


	18. Meena

Meena has to admit, spending the evening at Ash’s place made her feel a lot better.

Okay, granted, it was a bit embarrassing that she fell asleep on the couch when she and Ash were watching TV, but spending all night baking had finally taken its toll.

She woke up an hour later, gasping when she found out that she should have been home half an hour ago.

Ash, however, had already taken care of that and called her mother, telling that Meena had fallen asleep and would be home a bit later. And then Ash insisted on calling her a cab, and she even gave Meena the money for it.

Maybe she should bake another cake for Ash. Although she thinks that, given Ash’s size, it would take her a little while to eat the three cakes Meena has baked for her already.

But the teenage elephant can’t think of anything else to show Ash how thankful she is for her help. She has no idea how to tackle writer’s block. She doesn’t even have an idea on how to tackle the interview-problem!

And she has absolutely no idea what Mr. Moon has planned for her today. All he said was that they are going to do some sort of an interview-training together with Eddie. She doesn’t even know what that could mean.

Meena lets out a deep breath.

Well, she at least has to give Ash her money back. After her interview-training. Which she still isn’t looking forward, too.

The upcoming interview-training only reminds her that the actual interview is coming up, and all she wants to do is go home and cuddle up in bed.

But that’s not an option, unfortunately.

With another sigh, Meena enters the Moon Theater.

She immediately walks up to Mr. Moon’s office, quickly greeting Ms. Crawly behind her tower of papers as she makes her way to Mr. Moon’s office. She only wonders for a second where Cia might be, presuming that the snow leopard must be running an errand or something.

She knocks, and he asks her in, which Meena does immediately.

She’s surprised to find the koala bent over some sheet of paper, and the look on his face looks a bit strange to Meena, although she can’t really place it. But whatever is written down on this piece of paper, it for sure doesn’t make him happy.

Meena carefully steps a bit closer. Still, Mr. Moon doesn’t look up at her.

This makes her feel a bit uneasy, and she gently clears her throat.

She didn’t mean to startle him, but the koala jumps a little at the sound.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Meena says quickly, her ears already covering her face. “Y-you asked me in, so … so I thought it was okay to come in.”

“Of course it is!” Mr. Moon replies, giving a little laugh that sounds a bit nervous in Meena’s ears. He puts the paper away, and the teenage elephant frowns when she realizes that there’s nothing on it. So what exactly put this strange look on Mr. Moon’s face when there aren’t any words on it?

“So, Meena,” Mr. Moon goes on. “You are here becaaaaaauuuuuuse…”

He looks at her questioningly, and Meena realizes that he must have forgotten that he asked her to come over after school.

“Uhm, you asked me to come over for some interview-training,” she replies. “But maybe I misunderstood. I’m sorry! Should I come back later? Or tomorrow?”

She’d be totally fine with tomorrow. Or next year.

Mr. Moon’s face lights up.

“Right!”, he says. “Eddie and Cia have set something up to help you prepare for your interview. Just go down to the stage. They’ll fill you in on the details.”

“Oh, okay.” Meena doesn’t know why, but somehow she had hoped that Mr. Moon would come with her. He’s always been with her during her interviews. Out of the camera's’ sight, of course, but still. He’s always been there. Like he’s been there for her back at the concert in the ruins of the Moon Theater.

But this is only training, right? It shouldn’t make her feel bad.

It still does, though, and when she turns around at the door to look back at the koala he’s already bent over his empty piece of paper again.

Meena feels bad for him when she sees the look at his face. Although she still can’t say what exactly it is that is shown on his face. Disappointment? Frustration? Something in between? She wishes there’d be something she could do for him, though. Maybe she should bake him another cake?

She’d choose baking over interview-training - and interviews - any time.

Unfortunately, it’s interview-training-time now.

She gives a little wave with her trunk that Mr. Moon doesn’t see and leaves his office.

* * *

When Meena enters the stage area, she stops for a moment, her eyes wide.

The stage looks like a the studio of the talk show that asked for a live interview with her. She knows that because she looked up this talk show on the internet. She can make out Cia walkin around in the audience area with a stack of paper in her arms.

Meena’s about to set into motion when she hears a familiar voice greeting her.

She turns around to set eyes on Johnny.

“Oh, hi, Johnny,” she returns the greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m done with rehearsals for today, and I wanted to find out what they have planned for you,” Johnny says with a little shrug. “Cia mentioned a tiger mask, and it made me curious.”

“A tiger mask?” Meena asks with a frown. “What for?”

Johnny shrugs. “I have no idea.”

Together, they walk up to the stage.

When they pass Cia, they greet her and the snow leopard waves at them.

Meena is surprised to find out that Cia is pinning pictures of animals’ faces on the backrests of the chairs.

When they enter the stage, Eddie walks up to them, dressed in a purple suit.

“Oh, there you are!” Eddie greets her. “We rebuild the studio of ‘News in the Afternoon’, so we can practice the interview.”

The sheep points at the furniture around them.

“We have an audience.” - He points at the seats with the pictures on them.” - “We have cameras.” - He shows Meena said cameras. - “And to make it all perfect” - he digs into the pocket of his suit, produces a tiger mask and puts it on - “I am your talk master.”

It all clicks together in Meena’s head.

Of course! The talk master is a tiger and he always wears purple suits!

She thinks that she should thank Eddie and Cia for all the work they have put into this, but the rebuild studio, the cameras, even the paper eyes looking at her, they make the nervosity rise in her chest, and suddenly her throat feels very tight.

So a whispered okay is all she manages to say.

Eddie sits down on the couch, gesturing for her to sit down next to him.

“Oh, Johnny, you can join Cia in the audience area to add some real eyes there,” Eddie says to the gorilla. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Sure!” Johnny says, giving Meena’s arm a quick pat before he leaves for the audience area.

Meena’s heart sank even more at the mention of real eyes, so she’s already shivering a little bit as she walks over to the couch and sits down.

“Okay,” Eddie says, taking a sheet of paper from the coffee table. “I prepared some questions the talk master could ask you. So let’s begin!”

He sounds so cheerful, that Meena jumps a little.

“Okay…,” she whispers.

Eddie looks down at the paper, then up to the ceiling.

“Wait, something’s wrong with the lights,” Eddie says all of a sudden. “Cia!” he calls the snow leopard. “Could you turn on another spotlight and point it on us?”

“Sure!” Cia replies. She comes up the stage, then hesitates for a moment.

“Up the ladder backstage,” Meena explains, her knowledge from her time as stagehand kicking in.

“Okay!” Cia calls out, her voice somehow high-pitched. Then she disappears backstage.

Eddie and Meena sit there and wait for the additional spotlight.

Meena’s starting to feel uncomfortable so she looks down at her hands.

Nothing happens.

They wait a bit longer.

Nothing happens.

“Cia, how’s that spotlight coming along?” Eddie calls out.

“Working on it!” comes the reply.

Again, nothing happens.

The uncomfortableness increases and Meena starts to fold and unfold her hands over and over again.

“Cia, the spotlight!” Eddie calls out again.

This time, there comes no reply.

“Cia!” Eddie calls again.

From the corner of her eye Meena sees a movement, and when she rises her gaze, she sees Johnny walking backstage.

“I’ll check what’s going on,” he explains.

After a few moments the additional spotlight is turned on.

“Thank you!” Eddie calls out, rolling his eyes.

“So, let’s start!” he says to Meena, his voice cheerful again.

Meena just lowers her eyes.


	19. Johnny

The tension coming from Meena is already enough to make Johnny feel a bit uncomfortable. But when Eddie is starting to get impatient, Johnny decides he should look what’s going on with Cia. From all the time he spent backstage, he exactly knows which spotlight Eddie meant. Cia probably just can’t find it, but he’s sure he can help.

He jogs backstage - and is a bit surprised when he finds Cia at the foot of the right ladder, staring up.

He frowns at that, but moves closer.

“Sorry, Cia, Eddie is starting to get impatient,” he addresses her. “Really, I always thought sheep are calm and collected and then I met Nana Noodleman and now I’m not sure if Eddie inherited…”

He breaks off mid-sentence when he realizes that Cia didn’t even blink. She’s still staring up, somehow frozen.

“Cia?” he asks gently.

“Working on it,” the snow leopard replies in a monotone voice.

Johnny frowns a little more at that, then something in his brain clicks together, and he thinks he knows what’s going on.

Carefully, he places a hand on her shoulder. She turns her head and looks at him as if she saw him for the first time.

He just smiles and gently shoves her out of the way.

Then he climbs up the ladder and turns on said spotlight.

When he’s down again, Cia is gone.

He’s a bit surprised by that, but when he walks back to the audience area, Cia is already seated there.

He joins her, but Cia avoids his eyes.

She seems a little tensed up - which really doesn’t help. There’s Meena’s tension on the stage, Cia’s tension right next to him, and he in the middle hoping that there’d be something he could do, but he can’t think of anything.

So he just sits there and watches how Eddie asks Meena questions.

The teenage elephant does her best to reply, but she keeps stumbling over the words.

Johnny feels bad for her.

Eddie cheers her on, he asks the same questions over and over again. Meena does a little better the second round, but is just as nervous as during the first round when they try a third time.

Johnny can practically _see_ that Eddie is suppressing a sigh, even behind the tiger mask.

“Well, I think that was okay for our first training,” Eddie says, taking off the mask and smiling at Meena. “Let’s call it a day.”

“Okay,” Meena replies, her eyes lowered and her ears covering her face.

“Let’s tr...do this again tomorrow, same time, okay?” Eddie suggests, and Meena just nods.

When the teenage elephant gets up, Johnny does, too. From the corner of his eyes he sees that Cia starts to collect the animals’ pics, and so he decides to help.

After a little while Meena and Eddie join them, and when they are done with the pictures, they push the couch and the coffee table backstage. Or rather, Meena does, although Johnny helps her with the couch. It’s obvious that she needs to do something, so he doesn’t want to interfere.

Eddie has some other work left to do for the next performance of Rosita’s show, so Johnny, Meena, and Cia leave the stage area, they don’t talk, and Johnny doesn’t like it.

But he doesn’t like what happens next either.

There’s some noise which turns out to be yelling, and Johnny twists his mouth when he remembers the voice.

It’s Ash.

And then he sets eyes on the porcupine. She’s just entering the lounge, coming from the rehearsal rooms, and she’s not alone. There’s another porcupine with her.

“I don’t care, Lance!” Ash yells. “Leave me alone!”

“But Ash, babe, really, I’ve changed!” the other porcupine returns.

“And it doesn’t matter to me! Get lost!”

“Ash, please, why won’t you give us a second chance?”

Ash stops rooted to the spot and looks at Lance for a second, her mouth open.

“For one, you never apologized!” she says then.

“What? I sent you cards!”

“To my face, Lance, you never apologized to my face! Don’t you think I deserve that!?”

“What!?” Lance calls out.

“Leave me alone, Lance! I don’t want to see your face ever again!”

“But Ash!”

“Go!”

Johnny can’t watch this any longer. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself to step in, but Cia beats him to it.

“Hey, do you need help?” she asks Ash, walking up to them.

Ash looks at her for a second, her eyes wide. She opens her mouth, but Lance doesn’t give her a chance to speak up.

“Hey, this is a private conversation!” he says angrily to Cia. “It’s none of your business!”

“I work here,” Cia replies. “So yes, this is my business.”

She turns to Ash again. “Do you need help?” she asks again.

“I don’t thin…” Ash begins, but Lance cuts her short.

“No, she doesn’t! Now buzz off, kitty!” He takes a step forward, trying to push Cia away - and failing, of course.

“Kitty?” Cia repeats, and Johnny doesn’t like how her voice sounds.

Then she looks around her. “He touched me first, everyone saw that, right?”

When she turns back to Lance there’s a grin on her face. “Thank you,” she says.

“Thank you?” Lance asks in a confused voice.

“Yes, because now this is self-defense.”

Before Lance can react, she grabs him by his shirt and lifts him up.

“Meena,” Cia says without taking her eyes off of Lance. “Be a dear and open the door, will ya?”

“Uh…” Meena hesitates.

“Meena, please open the door or I am going to throw him out through the closed door.”

The elephant quickly runs over the few steps to the front door and opens it.

“And you better hold still,” Cia says to Lance. “My aim really sucks.”

Johnny can see Lance flinch a little, and then Cia sends Lance flying through the door Meena is holding open.

The second Lance hits the street, Johnny walks up to the front door, checking if he’s hurt.

But Lance just gets up, dusting off his clothes, and then - with one last look at the theater - he leaves.

Johnny lets out the breath he realizes he’s been holding.

When he turns back he finds Ash and Cia talking.

“Thanks for that,” Ash says. “But I could have handled him.”

“I’m sure about that,” Cia replies. “It’s just - he called me _kitty_. I hate that.”

Ash laughs. “He keeps calling me babe. I hate _that_.”

She holds out her hand. “I’m Ash.”

Cia takes her hand and shakes it. “I’m Cia.”

“Well, see you around, Cia!” Ash says. Then she walks to the front door.

As she leaves the theater, she waves at Johnny. Meena joins her and the two girls walk down the street in the opposite direction where Lance has disappeared.

When Johnny turns back, he finds Cia looking at him.

She comes closer.

“I think I owe you an explanation,” she says.

“You don’t like to be called kitty. I got it,” he replies.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I mean. Look, I’m…”

“Afraid of heights? Yeah, I got that, too.”

Cia looks at him, her eyes wide. “How do you …”

“It wasn’t that hard,” Johnny says with a shrug.

Really, he’s wondering how he didn’t figure out it any sooner. Her weird behavior on the ladder, her refusal to step any closer to the roof edge, her staring up at the ladder, frozen to the spot - all signs for her fear of heights.

Cia sighs. “Well, it’s not so much that I am afraid of heights, I’m afraid of falling down. That’s a difference.” - She pauses for a second. - “I think.”

“How’s that even possible?” Johnny asks. “I thought cats are great climbers.”

Cia twists her mouth. “And I thought gorillas eat bananas all the time.”

“Huh?”

“That’s what we call a cliché,” Cia says with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh yeah, right.” Johnny lowers his eyes.

“But anyways, thanks for your help back there, Johnny,” Cia says, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. “I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a smile.

“Okay, I better get back to the office now. I bet Ms. Crawly’s already wondering what’s happened to me.”

She gives a little wave of her hand and turns to leave.

“Good luck!” Johnny says - and then he wants to slap himself. He’s probably not even _supposed_ to know how bad things are between Cia and Ms. Crawly.

_Think before you speak, Johnny, it’s as easy as that!_

But Cia just laughs. “Yeah, I’m gonna need it.”

Somehow, Johnny is relieved that she reacted so calm. It makes him smile.


	20. Ash

How Cia handled Lance had been nice to watch and it helped her to calm down a bit, but the moment Ash steps out on the street, the anger is back. It settles in in her chest, tightening her throat and making it impossible to relax her jaw.

The nerve! Really, what was Lance _thinking!?_

Okay, obviously, he was _not_ thinking, but still.

Showing up at the theater, right there, in front of her rehearsing room, and then even trying to _come in?_ Has Lance totally lost it!?

How did he even get in? She really should talk to the doorman, giving him a picture of Lance and making him swear he’d _never_ let Lance in again.

On the other hand, she has this terrible feeling that Lance would find a way in even then.

Because this is Lance, and there are some things, Lance just doesn’t get.

And obviously, taking no for an answer is one of them. Especially after he seems to be so sure that he deserves another chance.

Which she isn’t going to give him.

After what he did, she shouldn’t even talk to him, rather just punch his face as soon as she sees him. But that’s just not her. Yes, she has no problem with giving people a piece of her mind, and she usually doesn’t mince her words, but actually punching someone? No, that’s not her.

Maybe she should ask Cia for help.

Then she remembers how the snow leopard sent Lance flying out the door. And yes, for a moment she even hoped Meena would _not_ open that door. But it was funny either way.

Should help her make it through the next time Lance is being a jerk. Which is probably tomorrow. Or the day after that. At any rate, too soon for her taste.

It’s only then that Ash remembers that Meena is walking right next to her.

Ash has been so lost in thought she had completely forgotten about the teenage elephant.

Of course Meena’s quiet personality and her habit of not speaking up unless she’s asked something hasn’t helped either.

But that are only excuses. Ash shouldn’t have forgotten about her in the first place. They are friends after all.

“Uh, I’m sorry, Meena,” she says, giving the elephant an apologetic look. “I was so lost in thought.”

“It’s okay,” Meena replies with a shrug.

“No, it’s not!” Ash replies. “So, how was your interview-training?”

Meena mentioned the training yesterday.

“Uhm.” The teenage elephant puts her ears over her face.

 _Not good, not good!_ Ash tells herself. _This is a bad sign, a really bad sign!_

She tries to come up with something else to say, but fails miserably.

So Meena speaks up before Ash can say something.

“Eddie and Cia rebuild the set of the talk show and Eddie even dressed up as the talk master,” Meena tells her.

This makes Ash chuckle. “Are you serious? Isn’t the talk master a tiger?”

“Yes, yes, he is!” Meena calls out. “Eddie was wearing a tiger mask!”

“Really?” That’s too much for Ash and she breaks into laughter.

She’s relieved when Meena joins her. Although it’s silent laughter, fitting Meena’s personality, but Ash can live with that. Laughter is laughter after all.

When Ash has calmed down a bit, she brushes the tears her outburst of laughter has brought to her eyes away.

“Can I watch next time?” she asks.

And the ears are back over Meena’s face.

“Yeah, sure,” she says, lowering her eyes.

Ash bites down her lip.

Should she change the topic? She decides against it.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“It didn’t go well,” Meena says with a sigh.

“What happened?”

“I...I couldn’t do it right,” the elephant replies. “I kept stumbling over the words. I couldn’t get one answer out without starting to stutter. It was terrible!”

“But it was your first try!” Ash says. “No one expected you to get it right immediately!”

“That’s the other thing.” Meena sighs again. “No one got mad. I was screwing up over and over and over again, and Eddie kept being nice, although I could see how annoyed he was!”

“Huh?” Ash’s eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“I screwed up, Ash!” Meena calls out. “Yet Eddie was being nice! If I screw up, tell me so, okay? I screwed up back at rehearsals, yet my family kept telling me how awesome I am. I screwed up during interviews, giving the TV channels a bunch of extra work when they had to cut my stuttering into whole sentences, yet they kept telling me how great I did. I didn’t do great, Ash, I _screwed up!”_

“Meena, they’re just trying to be nice because they care about you,” Ash says with a smile. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But it feels wrong,” says Meena, her eyes lowered to the ground again.

“I know.” Ash takes Meena’s hand and gives it a little squeeze. “It’ll get better. You’re practicing. That’s the thing with practicing, you know. You get better.”

Meena looks down at her with a little frown. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Ash says, squeezing Meena’s hand once more before she lets go of it again.

Meena takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“So can I watch next time? I really, really, really want to see Eddie in his tiger mask! Please, please, pretty please?”

She puts such a big smile on her face, the corners of her mouth are starting to hurt.

But it works. Meena chuckles. “Yes, sure, you can.”

“Yes!” Ash calls out, happy to be able to turn that big smile into one that doesn’t hurt her face.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Meena calls out, reaching into her pocket and holding some bills out to Ash. “I still need to pay you back for the cab from yesterday.”

“No, you don’t.” Ash shakes her head.

“But-”

“Hey, you baked me _three_ cakes! We’re even, really.”

“Oh, okay.” Hesitantly, Meena puts the bills back into her pocket.

“Although I don’t mind if you bake me another cake some time,” Ash says.

Meena looks at her and her face lights up.

“Sure!”

Ash is relieved that she finally seems to get the hang of what to say to cheer Meena up.

“Sooooo,” she says, “this Cia has a way of getting her point across, huh?”

“Yeah, although I never thought she’d actually throw Lance out. Literally. She seemed so nice in the office.”

“Oh, she is nice. I mean, she literally threw Lance out of the theater. If that’s not a sign for being nice, then what is?”

Meena chuckles. “I guess you’re right.”

“And I can totally relate to her not liking to be called kitty.”

“I can relate to you not wanting Lance to call you babe anymore.”

_Don’t call me babe…_

The words are there in her brain almost immediately, and they make Ash somehow excited.

But the feeling and the words are gone when Meena speaks up again.

“I think I only opened the door because I didn’t want it to get broken,” Meena says.

“Oh, that’s too bad! Imagine Lance going all _smack!_ against that door!”

And they both burst into laughter again.


	21. Mike

The good thing about shopping trips is that they keep Nancy happy for a few days. So Mike has enough time to get everything done for his pop-up concert.

Leaving for the concert and, even more importantly, leaving _Nancy at home_ is a totally different thing.

“Why can’t I join you, Mike?” Nancy asks. “I have all these beautiful dresses, and now I can’t wear them?”

“Because Enrico has his day off and one bodyguard is not enough for the two of us,” Mike explains for the third time.

“Well, it’s not my fault you’re bad at organizing your concerts on days when your bodyguard does _not_ have a day off!”

“I did, but he had a family emergency!”

Nancy glares at him.

He saw it coming, yes, he did. He knew it the moment Enrico asked for a day off. That’s why he only told her a few hours ago before she started to get ready.

And since then she didn’t miss an opportunity to tell him how badly treated she feels.

Which means she’s been talking about it non-stop.

Luckily, Mike is kind of used to it, so he only listens with half an ear. If at all.

He keeps preparing for his concert while Nancy keeps complaining. He hates to do this, but he has no choice.

He wants her to be safe.

So he endures it - her glares, the accusations, the spiteful tone in her voice that turns into pitiful when she realizes it doesn’t work out the way she planned it.

He just keeps breathing and gets ready, one step at at time.

When it’s time to leave, he tries to give her a goodbye kiss, but Nancy just twists her mouth and turns her head away.

He should have known better, but he just had to try, because, really, sometimes he wonders how he can be near her more than a few minutes without kissing her.

So it hurts even more that she doesn’t let him kiss her, but he just sighs and leaves.

He has a concert coming up after all.

* * *

The concert goes well. Every time he’s up on a stage Mike remembers just how much he loves it! The singing, the lights, the crowd - it’s just amazing.

With a smile Mike lets his eyes wander over the people, and his smile freezes when he sees someone familiar in the front row.

What the heck is Nancy doing here? He told her to stay at home, for her own safety!

But there she is, wearing one of the dresses he bought her just a few days ago.

He looks at her, and she looks back at him, wearing such a triumphant smile on her face, he doesn’t know if he should yell at her or pull her into a kiss.

He does neither. He just stays up on that stage, doing his encores.

It doesn’t go as well from then on. He keeps scanning the crowd for the three bears. Usually he doesn’t have to care about that. There’s still one other bodyguard with him, and it’s his job to protect Mike, to watch out for the bears.

What this bodyguard doesn’t know and can’t even do right now is checking if one of these bears is approaching Nancy.

Heck, his bodyguard doesn’t even know Nancy is there!

Mike does his best not to let it show. He keeps singing, doing encore after encore until he decides it’s enough for one concert.

Before he leaves the stage he looks at Nancy once more. She just replies with that triumphant smile from before.

He hopes she gets that he wants her to come backstage.

He isn’t sure, though. This is Nancy after all. And if she defies what he asks her to do to keep her safe, who knows if she’d come backstage just because he gives her a little sign?

But she understands and follows him.

His bodyguard looks a bit surprised when he sees Nancy, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s a good bodyguard. That’s the reason Mike hired him, isn’t it?

Mike keeps his back towards Nancy, knowing that the moment he sets eyes on her beautiful face, the words he has to tell her would be gone, erased from his memory once and for all, the angry tone in which he has to say them to bring them across dampened down to scolding tone which she wouldn’t take seriously. Or at least not seriously enough.

“What were you thinking!?” he yells. “Do you want to get yourself killed!?”

“No, I want to live, Mike!” she replies just as loudly. “Live! You know what that means?”

This is the moment when something inside Mike snaps, and he turns around, too angry to even see her beautiful face, all he sees is his girlfriend getting herself into danger. All he sees is that he’s going to lose her.

“Yes, I do, Nancy! It’s the opposite from what you’re trying to do!”

“Oh? Then why do I feel so very much _alive!?_ ”

“You are crazy, Nancy, crazy and dumb! You’re getting yourself killed if you go out without a bodyguard!”

“I got here without getting killed, didn’t I?”

There it is again, this triumphant smile.

He hates it.

“Do you want to leave me so badly!?” he yells, putting all the anger and the fear into his voice.

It leaves him gasping for breath.

Nancy looks at him, her eyes wide.

The triumphant smile is gone, but Mike couldn’t care less.

“What?” she says, her voice gentle. “No, not at all!”

“Then why are you doing this, Nancy?” His voice is gentler, too, but still, there’s some of the anger and more of the fear left.

“I...I…” Instead of finishing the sentence, Nancy walks up to him and wraps her arms around his neck.

He’s so tense, it takes him longer than usual to react when she pulls him into a kiss, but when he finally relaxes, it feels as amazing as the first kiss they shared and all the other kisses combined. It makes the anger melt away and dampens the fear, although it stays where it is, close to his heart, heavy and cold. But he ignores it. As long as he can kiss Nancy he can ignore anything.

When they break the kiss, Nancy looks into his eyes and places a hand on his cheek.

“I never want to leave you, Mike,” she says. “But I can’t live locked away in an apartment. Let me live my life, and I’ll never leave you, Mike, I promise.”

Mike wants to believe her, he really does. It’s just that there are three angry bears after them, and Nancy doesn’t seem to get how dangerous they are. Didn’t seeing one bear trying to eat him alive make her understand?

She’s so confident, and Mike loves her for it. It’s just that it could get her into serious trouble.

He wants to tell her all this, again and again and again until she finally gets it, but if the last time didn’t work, then why should it work now, now that she was successful?

So he gives up. He can’t lock her away, not that he ever really wanted to do that. He just thought he had to to keep her safe.

And maybe, just maybe he did it so _he_ didn’t have to fear for her safety so much.

Now it looks like he has to learn to live with that fear of losing her. And he can do that, he’s sure.

“Just be careful, okay?” he says.

“Promise,” Nancy replies.

When they lean in for another kiss, Mike sees a movement from the corner of his eye, but he ignores it.

It’s probably just imagination that it looks like three bears. And even if not, from what he can tell, they are walking away. So everything’s good, right?

Right?


	22. Rosita

Rosita is kind of relieved when it’s finally Friday - not because she’s really looking forward to the talk she’s going to have with Norman - this is going to be tough, she knows that -, but because it means the time of waiting is finally over.

She hates waiting, to be honest. So she poured herself into work.

She was excited when Mr. Moon called her to tell her about Johnny’s charity concert and she was the first to call Johnny and volunteer to set everything up for it.

Not that she doesn’t already have enough on her plate with rehearsals and spending some time with the kids, not to mention the commuting between the hotel and their apartment.

But right now, she hates every free minute she has. It gives her time to think, and when she thinks she gets nervous. And being nervous is never good.

So she appreciates the extra-work at the garage.

And she’s good at it.

She still has some hours to kill before she needs to get ready for her date/meeting/whatever-it-is she has with Norman, so she grabs her bag and leaves for the garage.

She isn’t surprised that she only finds Johnny. Eddie and the other volunteers usually don’t show up before the afternoon when the work at the theater is done.

Like always, Johnny is hard at work, this time putting together the stage.

“Hello, Johnny!” Rosita greets the young gorilla.

“Hello, Rosita!” Johnny replies without looking up from his work.

“What can I help you with today, Johnny?” Rosita asks.

“I could really need some help with the stage,” Johnny says. “You know where to find everything.”

“Got you!” And with this Rosita is on her way to get the tools.

And in no time she’s busy with helping Johnny setting up the stage.

* * *

Around noon other animals start pouring in and getting to work.

First, it’s Gunter who, of course, complains at first about the lack of music and has to take care of it with his special garage-working-mix. Which is fine with Rosita. Everything’s easier with a little music.

Then Ash shows up. She doesn’t say much, just grabs a hammer and seems totally happy with just hammering, although Rosita is thinking that she might be putting a little too much force into it. But as long as the hammer or the nails or the planks don’t break, Rosita guesses it’s okay.

During the afternoon, Eddie and Meena show up, and the way Meena keeps her eyes on the floor is something Rosita does _not_ like. She wishes she could talk to her, but she has to leave now to get ready for her date/meeting/whatever-it-is with Norman.

So all she does is giving Meena a encouraging smile when she looks her way. From what Rosita can tell the teenage elephant is trying to smile back, but doing a poor job.

Rosita frowns at her, but Meena just turns away and concentrates on her work again.

For a moment, Rosita thinks of just getting over there and hugging Meena or holding her hand or just doing something to make her feel better, but then she remembers that it would probably make her feel more awkward so she decides against it. Besides, the kitchen here is abandoned. So the only thing that would make Meena feel better now - _baking!_ \- is out of the question anyway. Maybe she should talk to Johnny about stocking the kitchen with some baking utensils.

But that’ll have to wait because now, she _really_ needs to get going.

“Okay, I have to go now!” she calls out to no one in particular before she turns into Johnny’s direction. “See you in two hours, Johnny!”

“What?” comes the reply and Johnny looks up from his work to give her a frown.

“The babysitting?” Rosita says. “You still up for it?”

Rosita feels the fear rising in her chest that Johnny would back out.

“It’s that late already?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

Rosita releases the breath she’s been holding in a silent sigh. Of course Johnny wouldn’t let her down. This is Johnny! He’d never let one of his friends down. Ever. What was she thinking?

“Guess, I was so lost in work I didn’t realize,” Johnny goes on.

“Hey, Gunter,” he calls over to the other pig. “Could you tell me in one and a half hour that I have to get going?”

“Will do, Johnny!” Gunter replies. “I set an alarm. This will work, no?”

“Thank you, Gunter!” Johnny and Rosita say in unison, and Rosita wonders if she’s right that Gunter’s alarm is going to be some really annoying fire alarm-like sound. She has to ask Johnny about that later.

But now she needs to be on her way. So with a quick wave of her hand she leaves the garage.

* * *

Rosita looks at her reflection for the tenth time in the past few minutes.

No change there, she still looks nice. The black dress fits her like a glove, the sequin necklace/collar-thing Gunter chose for her adds a nice touch to it, and the light make-up she put on looks amazing, but in a subtle way. She likes it.

She only hopes Norman is going to like it, too.

Like always when she gets ready for an event, Norman flew to the living room.

So Rosita is kind of surprised when she descends the stairs and finds Norman waiting for her in a suit. Okay, he _always_ wears suits, but that’s not his everyday-suit. It’s a black grey one and he looks nice.

It seems she wasn’t the only one trying to make their date/meeting/whatever-it-is special.

“Mommy, you look beautiful!” Caspar says, and his siblings nod in agreement.

“Thank you! That’s so sweet from you” Rosita replies, but she can’t help, but wonder if Norman thinks the same thing. His face is hard to read, so she stops trying.

All they have to do now is wait for Johnny, and in this exact moment, the doorbell rings.

With a smile, Rosita opens the door for the gorilla.

“Wow, you look amazing, Rosita!” he says instead of a greeting, and Rosita’s smile deepens. Although, again, she asks herself if Norman thinks this, too.

“Thank you, Johnny, you’re too kind!” she says, but the next moment, she jumps into parent-mode again.

“Okay, listen,” she goes on in a more serious tone. “I put all numbers you might need on the fridge - poison control, children’s ward and so on. I know you know that if something happens you should dial 911, but just in case, I put it on the fridge, too. There are the kids’ favorite movies on DVD on the coffee table, and I put some board games out, too. The kids should be in bed by eight, and if something happens or you’re not completely sure about something or you just feel overwhelmed, call me, okay?”

She takes a deep breath, looking at Johnny with a frown on her face.

“So, you think you can handle it?” she asks.

Johnny looks at her with an amused look on his face. “Yes, Rosita, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” She takes another deep breath. “And if anything’s wrong …”

“I’ll call you,” he cuts her short. “Really, Rosita, I got this. No worries!”

“Okay,” she says again, but still, she hesitates to leave.

“Rosita, you coming?” Norman asks from the door, and with a determined nod, Rosita joins him.

Once the door clicks shut behind time, Rosita stops, listening for any sign that something is wrong. Or maybe for Johnny calling for help.

She hears neither.

“Rosita?” Norman asks again, and when she turns to look at him, she realizes he’s offering her his arm.

There’s this warm feeling in her stomach she hasn’t felt in a long time, and with a smile she links arms with him and lets him lead her to his car.


	23. Johnny

Johnny watches Rosita and Norman leave with an amused look on his face. Rosita worries too much!

Really, he knows Rosita’s piglets from his visits here and they’ve always been so nice.

So he doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t be able to handle one evening of babysitting.

When the door clicks shut behind Rosita and Norman, he turns around to face the piglets - only to realize that half of them have disappeared to who knows where.

He frowns a bit at that, but hey, maybe they get some toys or so?

He walks over to the living room, thinking he’d check out the board games first. It seems like a good start to an evening of babysitting.

“Hey, who’s up for some Chutes and Ladders?” he asks, but there’s no reply. He turns around to find out that the other piglets seem to be gone, too.

“Kids!” he calls out for them. “Gather round in the living room, please! We’re going to play a board game!” Again, no reply. “Kids? Kids!”

Okay, maybe, just maybe he bit off more than he can chew, Johnny thinks as he begins to search for the piglets.

* * *

An hour later Johnny thinks that it has been a little better when the piglets had forced him into some weird version of hide-and-seek. In this version, he had no idea they were playing.

But now the piglets have gone into complete “we do whatever we like”-mode and Johnny is just running around and trying his best to keep them from getting hurt. He already had to fish one piglet out of the sink where it had fallen into when trying to climb a kitchen unit. Luckily, there had been no dishes in the sink, just water.

With one hand he grabs one piglet by the shirt and lifts it down from the table, but while he does it, two other piglets climb the table.

And having one piglet clinging to each of his legs doesn’t make moving any easier, especially when he _should_ be able to move fast because right now, another piglet is trying to climb the kitchen unit.

He runs over there as fast as he can with the extra load of two - he looks down his legs - no, three piglets.

He manages it just in time before the piglet follows her brother’s example and accidentally goes swimming in the sink.

With a sigh he looks around the room. Piglets doing mischief everywhere! And that’s just the kitchen! Johnny isn’t even sure he wants to know what’s going on in the other rooms.

But he has to, and so he does.

He wishes he didn’t, though.

The living room looks like a battle ground.

Johnny’s pretty sure that this exactly what Rosita meant when she said he should call her, but he is so _not_ going to call her! This is Rosita’s evening off and he is not going to ruin it for her!

No, there has to be another way. He can do this!

He just needs to - there’s a splashing sound coming from the kitchen, and Johnny is sure another piglet has fallen into the sink - call for reinforcements, that’s what he needs to do.

He moves back to the kitchen, now with four piglets clinging to his legs, pulls the piglet out of the sink and wraps it into a towel.

Then he produces his phone, dialing the only number he can think of.

 _“Moon Theater, Mr. Moon’s office, Cia speaking,”_ says the snow leopard’s voice. _“What can I help you with?”_

“Uh, hello, Cia, this is Johnny,” he says. “Is Ms. Crawly around?”

“I’m sorry, Johnny, Ms. Crawly already left.”

Just his luck! For a moment, Johnny just hates the fact that Ms. Crawly must be the only animal in the city _without_ a mobile. But it can’t be changed.

“Oh, okay,” he says.

 _“Can I help you?”_ Cia asks.

“No, no, everything’s fine,” he replies, but he gasps when he sees how another piglet is trying to climb the kitchen unit.

 _“What’s wrong?”_ Cia asks, and it doesn’t even sound like a question.

“Who says something’s wrong, heh-heh?” he replies with an insecure laugh, putting the piglet back on the ground.

_“Well, it’s hard to miss that sound of panic in your voice.”_

“No, no, everything’s just fine.” But he gasps again when he finds one of the piglets climbing the kitchen cupboard this time.

 _“Johnny.”_ There’s this sound in Cia’s voice that tells him that she isn’t going to let him get away with this.

Johnny sighs.

“Well, I…” - he peels the piglet from the cupboard and places him on the ground - “...I’m babysitting Rosita’s kids tonight.”

_“Do you need help?”_

“Well…”

_“Johnny!”_

He sighs. “Yes, I guess I do.”

“Okay. How many kids does Rosita have?”

“Twenty-five.”

 _“Twenty-five!? And you’re doing this_ alone _?”_

“Uhm, yes.”

“Give me the address.”

For a moment, he thinks if maybe he should call Rosita after all. But no.

So he gives Cia the address.

“Okay, I’ll be there in forty-five minutes. Think you can hang on that long?”

“Sure!” He almost screams when he finds one piglet jumping around on a really wobbly looking chair.

Cia must have heard something, because she says, _“Okay, make that thirty minutes.”_ And then she hangs up.

* * *

Johnny never thought that thirty minutes could last that long, but they do. He spends it with keeping the piglets out of harm’s way, but he’s really relieved when finally the doorbell rings.

There are five piglets clinging to him now, and it takes him a little longer to get to the door.

When he opens it, Cia looks at him with wide eyes. He can only guess that the stress from the last hours must be shown on his face, not to mention that the piglets clinging to his legs must look kind of weird.

He tries to smile, though.

Cia just frowns at him, so he thinks that his smile didn’t come across that convincing.

She walks past him, looking around, before she enters the living room. Johnny follows her, realizing that she’s carrying one really big paper bag.

In the living room Cia places the paper bag on the ground before she puts two fingers in her mouth and whistles.

“Okay, kids!” she calls out. “I brought presents!”

Within seconds all twenty-five piglets are gathered around Cia, even the five clinging to Johnny. They try to look or climb into the bag, but Cia holds it out of their reach.

“Now,” Cia goes on, nodding at the bag, “this is my little bag of wonders. We are going to do several tasks and whoever does it right can reach in for a little present, okay?”

The piglets nod in agreement.

“First task, getting this room cleaned up,” Cia says. “On your marks, get set, go!”

And just like that the piglets set off.

Johnny can only look with his jaw dropped.

* * *

Two hours later, Johnny and Cia look into the piglets’ room where they are all fast asleep.

With a smile, Johnny closes the door.

“So, think you can handle it from here alone?” Cia asks.

“I think so,” he replies.

Together, they walk downstairs.

“I have to ask, Cia, how did you know all of this? The presents, the tasks, the conga-line to get them to the bathroom and then to their room, all these little tricks, wow!”

Cia laughs. “I did a lot of babysitting during highschool.”

“Well, I guess I’m lucky that Ms. Crawly left early today,” Johnny says. He doesn’t even want to think how things would have turned if the iguana would have shown up. Although, her megaphone might have come in handy.

“Actually, Mr. Moon sent her home early. Because she did such a great job today.”

“That’s the official version, I guess,” Johnny says. Cia already knows that he’s aware of how things are between her and Ms. Crawly, so he can just as well get more information on it. “And unofficially?”

“Unofficially I think he wanted her to stop making me organize things so I can get some real work done.” She shrugs.

“What did you do to tick her off like that?”

“I breathe,” Cia replies.

Johnny looks at her with wide eyes.

“No, really, that’s it. I can only guess, but I think she’s afraid of losing her job to someone younger. I don’t blame her, so I endure it and do my best.”

“Do you want me to talk to her? We’re close.”

“No, it’s fine. But thank you for the offer.”

“No, thank _you_ for your help!” Johnny replies. He remembers Cia’s bag of wonders with all the stuff for the piglets - balloons, party hats, and the like.

“Hey, how much were the presents for the piglets? I want to pay for them,” he tells her.

“No, it’s fine,” she replies. “It’s just minor stuff, nothing too fancy or expensive. We’re good.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Cia looks at the watch on the wall. “Okay, I better get going before Rosita and her husband show up. You sure you can handle things from here?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he says with a smile. “Thank you, Cia!”

“You’re welcome, Johnny! Bye!”

“See you!”

Only when Cia is out the door does Johnny realize that he still has her poem in his pocket.

Well, looks like this has to wait for another time.


	24. Rosita

Rosita has to give it to Norman, during their dinner he is kind and courteous. It almost feels like one of their first dates.

They talk about their day, about general things, it’s just nice.

Yes, they still need to talk about what has happened a few days ago, the knowledge of it hanging over them like a sword of Damocles.

But they don’t let it spoil their dinner. They are spending time together without the kids, and it’s just great.

During dessert, Norman clears his throat, and the warm feeling that has been spreading in Rosita’s body during their evening together, suddenly turns cold and concentrates on her heart.

And within an instant the tiramisu doesn’t taste like tiramisu at all. It just turns flavorless, so Rosita places her fork on her plate.

Well, she saw it coming, didn’t she?

That doesn’t mean she has to like it, right?

“Rosita, about what happened...,” Norman begins, but he breaks off.

“The things I said…,” he tries again, only to fail once more.

For a moment, Rosita thinks of taking over, just saying something, but she doesn’t know what, so she decides against it.

Norman takes a deep breath.

“I think it came across wrong,” he finally says.

“Okay.” She probably should have said more, but she still doesn’t know what, so she’s fine with the outcome.

“I-I think it’s amazing that you follow your dream, it’s just that I…” - he takes another deep breath - “...it’s not what I expected it to be like.”

“Okay,” she says again.

“And now that you want to go on tour with your show, I don’t know how to handle it,” Norman continues. “I wish you had talked to me first.”

Rosita sighs. “I know,” she says, glad that she finally got more out than just _okay_ , although she isn’t sure she likes the turn this talk is taking.

Yes, she knows she should have talked to Norman first, but this is a one-time opportunity. Doesn’t he _get_ that?

She feels the anger rise in her again, so she takes a deep breath. She doesn’t want this wonderful evening to end in tears.

“The thing is,” she continues, “this is one-time opportunity. If it turns out the way I think it would, I can do whatever I want afterwards. Wherever I want. Wherever _we_ want to live, it’s going to be fine!”

“I like where we live,” Norman tells her.

Rosita feels her heart sink.

Norman takes her hand. “Rosita, please think about it. It’s going to be so difficult. Do you want me and the kids behind? Do you want to take us with you on tour? But how? Did you even think about it?”

Rosita lowers her eyes. “Well, not really,” she admits. “But there has to be a way!”

“And what if here isn’t?”

Rosita bites down her lip. She never thought of _that_.

“There has to be!” she says a little too loudly. “Being a singer has been my dream since I was a kid!”

She waits for Norman to talk a little louder, too, but is surprised when he stays calm.

“And I always wanted to be a bus driver when I was a kid,” he says. “We don’t always get what we want.”

“A bus driver, really?” she says. “You never told me that.”

“Yes, I really liked the thought of driving people through the city and making announcements over speakter. That sounded so cool!”

Rosita doesn’t get _why_ he thinks that was cool, but she likes the dreamy look on his face.

It makes her smile.

And suddenly, the warm feeling spreading through her body is back. She gives Norman’s hand a little squeeze.

This exact moment, she feels how much she loves him with every fiber of her heart.

Yes, her dream is important, but Norman, her kids, they are important, too.

Back on their wedding day, they had promised to support each other as much as they can.

What if Norman can’t support her more than he already does?

Maybe this means she has to put her dreams aside.

But she doesn’t want to.

Being a singer is her dream! She doesn’t want to give it up!

And then Norman squeezes her hand back, and the tension melts away from her body.

“Norman, how about this?” she says. “We have one more month before we start planning the tour. If I can’t think of a way to bring family and tour together, I’ll tell Mr. Moon he has to find a replacement. What do you think?”

Norman looks at her with wide eyes. “You’d give up the tour?”

This question brings a pang to her heart.

“If I can’t think of a solution, yes,” she adds.

She wants to make this clear.

Norman’s eyes widen a little more, and Rosita waits for him to agree, but instead, he pulls her into a quick kiss.

Her brain’s still trying to process when they break the kiss.

Just to do _something_ , she picks up her fork and continues eating her tiramisu. She’s surprised by how good it tastes.

* * *

Rosita loves the little stroll they take in the park, she loves that for the rest of the evening the first date-feeling is back.

Yes, there’s still their deal and the fact that she has to think of a way to bring family and tour together. It’s nagging at her. But she pushes it away as much as she can, storing it somewhere in the back of her brain.

She can think of that tomorrow.

For now, she wants to enjoy the date with her husband.

Reality gets the best of her when they arrive at home again.

No, she doesn’t doubt that Johnny did his best with the kids, but the problem is she isn’t sure if that was enough. So she prepares herself to enter a rather chaotic apartment and gets ready to comfort Johnny.

Rosita takes a deep breath. Then she opens the door.

Her jaw drops when she finds the room rather quiet. She can only hear the TV from the living room, but there’s no screaming, no sound of little feet running around in the apartment, and she doesn’t hear any sign that Johnny is close to a mental breakdown.

With wide eyes she walks over to the living room - and her jaw drops again.

Has this room been that tidy _before_ they left?

And there’s Johnny sitting on the couch and looking totally relaxed.

“Oh hi, Rosita! Hello, Norman!” he greets them. “How was your date?”

“Wha...what happened here?” she asks. “Where are the kids?”

“The kids are in bed and before that, they cleaned up this room. And the kitchen,” Johnny explains as he gets up and walks up to her.

“But how did…?” She can’t finish the sentence because her jaw drops again.

“I had a little help, to be honest,” Johnny says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Who…?”

“Cia.”

“Cia?”

“The new secretary. Have you met her?”

Rosita shakes her head. “But I have to now. To thank her. How was it?”

“Well, overall, it was fun,” Johnny says.

Rosita raises a brow. “Really?”

Johnny laughs nervously. “Kind of,” he says with a shrug. “I better get going now. It’s getting late.” He looks from her to Norman and back to her. She can practically see the questions forming in his brain, but he keeps them to him. He can’t ask her in front of Norman, of course.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says. “Good night, Johnny! And thank you!”

“You’re welcome! Good night!”


	25. Mike

It was a challenge, but somehow Mike managed to persuade Nancy to join him in his car on their way home. At first, Nancy wanted to go home the same way she got to the concert - by cab.

But somehow, the memory of these bear-like silhouettes makes Mike feel uneasy. Of course he couldn’t tell Nancy that. She wouldn’t believe him anyway.

Also, these silhouettes - or whatever they were - were walking away from the scene of the concert, so it shouldn’t be that much of a problem, right?

But he couldn’t tell Nancy that either, so instead, Mike told her that they were going to get some take-out from their favorite restaurant. That worked. Luckily.

It didn’t help today, though, because today, Nancy decided she’d go on a shopping tour alone.

Mike didn’t like it, but he couldn’t do anything to make her stay at home. She didn’t even want him to join her because she’s meeting a friend later.

So Mike spent the last two hours checking his phone every two minutes or even more often.

At first, he called her every ten minutes to make sure she’s okay, but then she threatened him to not answer her phone if he dared to call her again.

That didn’t help.

And now Mike is pacing up and down the living room. When exactly did Nancy say she’d be home again? Could he send her a text just to ask her that? Would she consider that as something too close to his annoying calls how she called them to answer? Should he risk it?

He decides against it.

He spends another hour pacing up and down the room until he realizes that wouldn’t get him anywhere.

He needs to do something. Maybe he should think of his next pop-up concert. He tries that for about ten minutes, but he keeps checking his phone for a message from Nancy.

Another thing that doesn’t work.

He needs to do something, though, something that keeps him from checking his phone every minute.

Singing usually helps, but he wants to go outside. Staying at his apartment in his custom-made rehearsal room would only make him think about Nancy too much.

He takes his phone and dials Mr. Moon’s number.

“Hey there, Mr. Moon,” he greets when the koala answers. “Is there a chance I can use one of the rehearsal rooms today? … Really? That’s great! … No, no, I don’t mind if the others are rehearsing, too.”

* * *

After an hour at the Moon Theater Mike starts to feel better.

He ends his song and takes a deep breath.

He checks his phone - which he hasn’t done for, well, as long as the song lasted - only to see that there’s no call or text from Nancy.

With a twist of his mouth he picks up his microphone again, but then he sees all the movement.

Looks like Johnny, Ash, and Meena are leaving their rehearsal rooms as if on cue.

Nah, he can’t let them get away that easily, can he? Not when this promises to bring him a little more distraction than another song would.

“Hey, where are you guys going?” he asks as he opens the door of his rehearsal room. “Don’t you think you’d need all the practice you can get?”

Ash just rolls her eyes and keeps walking, but he expected that.

Meena and Johnny stop, however. He expected that, too.

“They’re helping me getting the garage ready for the concert,” Johnny says. “Oh, by the way, thanks for participating, Mike!”

That’s something Mike did _not_ expect. Yes, he expected Johnny to talk to him, but _thanking_ him? Okay, yes, it’s _Johnny_. Mike can’t remember seeing the young gorilla being anything else, but nice and kind and courteous.

Maybe it’s just that Mike isn’t used to being thanked for anything. By anyone else than Nancy, that is.

“You wanna join us?” Johnny asks.

“Sure, why not?” Mike replies. That’s another thing Mike did not expect.

* * *

Mike is surprised by how much doing just some ordinary work actually helps him to not think about Nancy.

Who would have thought that fetching nails or climbing up some ladders to check the lighting or giving orders to his bodyguards would help him that much? Well, most certainly not him.

He left his jacket, hat, and phone in an extra room because, well, they were _expensive_. It’d be bad enough if he ruined his pants or shoes, but he there’s nothing to be done about it. He can’t work naked, can he? Uhm, no.

Next time, he should probably wear some old clothes, he thinks as he decides he did enough manual work for one day and walks away to get his things.

He almost stops to slap his hand against his forehead.

Did he _really_ just think that? _Next time?_ Who says there’s going to be a _next time_?

He doesn’t work for free!

He said something similar about charity concerts, didn’t he? That was before Nancy talked him into doing it. And by _talking_ he means by just looking at him with her beautiful, beautiful eyes.

_Nancy…_

Suddenly, all the worries about Nancy are back and he can’t get a look on his phone quick enough.

He’s kind of relieved when he sees that he missed a call from his girlfriend.

Unless this was a call from her phone that she has been kidnapped or…

He can’t dial her number fast enough.

 _“Oh, look who finally found the time to call me,”_ Nancy says when she answers the call.

Mike somehow likes the annoyed ring in her voice.

“Well, I had _work_ to do, babe,” he replies.

_“What work? You just had a pop-up concert!”_

“For the charity concert I told you about.”

 _“Oooohhh, can I help, too?”_ Nancy asks, and it reminds Mike that she said how much she loves charity concerts.

But then he thinks of Nancy running around this place and doing _actual_ work, and no, just no.

He just needs to think of a way to talk her out of it.

“We’re done for the day, sorry,” he says. “Maybe next time.” _Or not_ , he adds mentally.

 _“Okay.”_ There’s a little bit of disappointment in her voice, and that’s something Mike does _not_ like.

“Hey, I can stop at our favorite restaurant on my way home. I’ll get us some dinner and maybe some wine. What do you think?”

 _“Sounds good,”_ Nancy replies and she sounds excited. Mike releases the breath he’s been holding. _“See you later, Mike!”_

“Bye, babe!”


	26. Ash

So far, Ash is still waiting for what Meena said about majorities and how they believe in her to come true. Or maybe she’s waiting to prove her wrong. She isn’t quite sure about that one.

Fact is she still hasn’t written any new songs. Yet.

Yes, the _yet_ is important here.

However, helping Johnny with the work in the garage is helping _her_ , too. That way, she can put all her frustration and anger into something useful.

Although she did slam her hammer down onto that plank with such force yesterday that she put a notch into that plank.

And although she hauled off so energetically that she sent her hammer flying once. Okay, more than once. But no one got hurt. Yet.

Ash thinks that maybe the _yet_ is important here, too.

Quickly, she drowns the rest of her coffee. It’s time to get to the theater. A little practice won’t hurt. She hates to admit it, but Mike did have a point there yesterday.

It doesn’t change the fact that for a moment she wished her flying hammer would have hit him.

Maybe she should try to take aim next time. Or maybe not.

 _Probably_ not.

There, that’s better.

There’s no use in hurting anyone.

It _could_ make her feel better, though.

Maybe she should start kickboxing or something.

With this thought, she grabs her guitar case and starts out, sending a text to Johnny on the way to remind him to get her for Meena’s interview training.

Because, really, if she can’t hurt anyone to make her feel better, at least seeing Eddie in that tiger mask should do the trick.

* * *

She’s a bit late for the interview training, but not because Johnny forgot to get her - he’d never do that -, no, because she had to finish that song she’s been playing because, well, just because.

Johnny set off without her, interpreting the nod of her head correctly.

She doesn’t know why it has been so important to finish a song she’s been playing three times already that day, but that’s how it was.

Hopefully, she isn’t developing some sort of a quirk there.

That’d be just what she needed right now with her writer’s block and all.

She rolls her eyes before she enters the audience area.

She looks around and finds Johnny and Cia sitting in one of the front rows. With a smile she joins them, greeting them quickly.

The stage is still empty, well, except for the exact copy of the studio of News in the Afternoon which she is only a little bit amazed by. Okay, a _lot_ amazed by, but she doesn’t show it.

She cranes her neck to catch a glimpse of Eddie in his tiger mask, but can’t find him.

“Hey, where are they?” she asks the others.

“Oh, they’re doing this whole introduction-thing now,” Johnny replies.

“Okay,” Ash says, not sure what he means.

It all makes sense when a few moments later she hears the opening jingle of News in the Afternoon, and Eddie enters the stage.

It’s the moment she has to dig her fingers into the armrests and bite down her lip, like, really, really hard or she would have burst into laugher.

Eddie? In a purple suit and wearing a tiger mask? Has she ever seen anything more hilarious than _that!?_

She really can’t say she has.

And when Eddie does the whole “Welcome to News in the Afternoon! I am your host Richard Stripes, blahblahblah”-thing in an perfect impersonation of the real Richard Stripes, a little giggle escapes her lips.

Johnny shoots her a warning glance, and she bites down her lip a little harder.

Yes, she knows she shouldn’t laugh, but really, _it’s Eddie acting like Richard Stripes!_ And since when did Johnny miss an opportunity to laugh?

She gets it when Meena enters after Eddie invited her on stage. She walks so slowly and carefully and stumbles nonetheless all while fumbling with her fingers in this nervous gesture that the urge to laugh evaporates in the blink of an eye.

Ash lowers her eyes for a second.

Maybe she should have thought a little more about it.

Yes, it’s funny to watch Eddie play Richard Stripes, but the even more important thing is that it’s Meena up there. Meena, her friend. Meena who’s this close to freaking out and fleeing from the stage.

She doesn’t need anyone laughing in the audience even it’d be because of Eddie and not because of her.

These things don’t matter to Meena. Laughter is laughter, and it’s always embarrassing for her. Ash has learned that much so far.

When she looks up again, she finds Johnny looking at her from the corner of his eye.

“Sorry,” she whispers, and Johnny concentrates his attention on the stage again. And so does Ash.

* * *

Half an hour later, Ash feels like anything, but laughing. She’s torn between the urge to run up there and pull Meena into a hug or drag her from that stage into safety and just leaving the audience area in silence because she can’t see her friend suffer like this any longer.

The way Johnny and Cia sit a little too straight in their chairs shows her that they must feel something similar.

Maybe they should build a Meena-rescue squad. Although that wouldn’t help Meena at all.

Or maybe Ash could ask Mr. Moon to let her give that interview instead. Meena could be sick or something and Ash could take over. Anything’s better than the massacre this interview is going to turn into for sure from what Ash has seen on that stage so far.

Meena keeps stuttering her replies even if Eddie asks her the same question three times, and from what Ash can tell, it’s only getting worse the longer this training goes on.

She bites down her lip again, this time because she has no idea what else to do.

If only Meena could sing her replies, she thinks. Meena never stutters when she sings.

Ash’s eyes widen.

Meena never stutters when she sings!

Ash jumps to her feet as if stung by an adder and runs up the stage.

“Time out!” she calls out.

Eddie stops mid-sentence and looks at her.

A little laughter is bubbling in Ash’s chest again, because really, this tiger mask! But she fights it down.

“Ash, what’s wrong?” he asks, but Ash ignores him.

Instead she walks straight up to Meena.

“Meena, you realize you never stutter when you sing, right?” she says.

Meena replies with the tiniest nod of her head.

“Then sing your answers!”

“What?” Meena looks at her with wide eyes.

“Oh, come on, Ash!” Eddie calls out. “She can’t _sing_ her answers!”

“Oh, but she can, Eddie! She can sing them in her head before saying them.” She turns back to Meena. “What do you think? Wanna give it a try?”

Meena nods again.

“Good.” Ash smiles at her.

“Okay, okay, whatever!” Eddie says. “Let her sing her answers in her head! Now off the stage with you, Ash!”

He sounds so annoyed, he reminds Ash of Nana Noodleman. Which makes sense. They are related after all.

So just in case Ash gets off that stage as fast as she can.

Back in the audience area, Johnny and Cia watch her as she takes her seat again.

“What?” she says with a shrug. “It’s worth a try.”

And then Eddie asks Meena another question, and the three of them turn to the stage.

There’s a little pause, and then Meena replies, the words flowing from her mouth in one whole sentence. Granted, it does sound a bit like sing-song, but hey, it’s a start!

Before Ash knows it, she jumps to her feet and cheers, Johnny and Cia joining her applause.

And when Meena looks down at her from the stage, Ash gives her a thumbs up.

Meena just smiles, slowly opening the curtain she has built for her face with her ears.

This makes Ash applaud a little louder.


	27. Buster

With a sigh Buster puts down the pen, wipes over his forehead with the back of his hand and takes the pen again, all while staring down on the piece of paper in front of him.

The _empty_ piece of paper.

Really, how hard can it be to get this new scene done?

Very hard, it seems. Otherwise it wouldn’t give him such a hard time, would it?

He recalls the overall-story of the play, the last scene in a bit more detail, and waits. And keeps waiting. And waiting.

He jumps when he hears someone clear his throat.

“Cia!” he calls out as he sets eyes on the snow leopard standing at the door and looking at him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Moon!” she says. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just you didn’t seem to hear me knocking.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” he replies quickly. “Do you need something?”

“A courier brought the test prints of the flyers for the new show,” she explains, holding up an envelope.

“Oh great!” Buster smiles although just _mentioning_ the new show makes him flinch on the inside.

Cia walks over to his desk and hands him the envelope. But instead of leaving, she looks at him with a frown.

“Yes?” Buster asks.

Cia bites down her lips before she exhales loudly.

“Mr. Moon, I know that’s not part of my job description, but can I help you?” She nods her head at the empty piece of paper.

“What? No!” He laughs. It sounds way too high-pitched in his ears. “But thanks for asking!”

“Mr. Moon, I’ve been standing there for about five minutes, watching you staring down on this piece of paper.” - She takes a little closer look - “This _empty_ piece of paper,” she corrects herself, and it makes Buster just flinch a little. “So whatever you’re trying to write, the words don’t seem to come to you.”

Buster has to give it to her, that’s pretty much what’s going with him right now. He doesn’t know if she has some really sharp observation skills or if everyone else knows, too, and she’s the only one who actually dares to say something, but either way, he is impressed.

“So?” Cia asks again. “Can I help you?”

Buster has no idea if she actually can, but since she’s here and since she’s offered her help, he could just as well give it a try. After all, he’s stuck on this scene for what feels like ages right now.

So if someone actually offers their help, he’d be stupid not to take it, right?

Especially since he’d never ask for help on his own. Not for his writing at least. He can ask for money, yes, he has no problem with that. He can even ask for help when he needs help with some work at the theater.

But with his writing? No, usually not.

And he’s kind of glad that he doesn’t have to change that. Cia asked, not he. So that’s fine.

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “You know Rosita’s show?”

Cia nods.

“The thing is it works so well because it’s based on Rosita’s story,” Buster explains. “I am working on a show starring Johnny now, and so far, I did great. It’s about a guy who decides against the path his family has chosen for him. His rich and powerful family. He wants to find his own way in life.”

“That sounds interesting,” says Cia.

“Thank you!” Buster says before he goes on. “But it needs a little twist now, and I don’t seem to be able to come up with something. I don’t want to go too deep into Johnny’s real story here because I am not sure he wants to see his father ending up in prison on stage, too.”

For a moment, he hesitates. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Yes, probably anyone working here knows about Johnny’s father. And yes, Johnny makes no secret of his father being in prison, but it still seems a bit off that he’s the one telling Cia about it. That’s something she should hear from Johnny.

He looks at Cia from the corner of his eye. She doesn’t seem surprised by these news. So she probably already knew it.

Which makes him feel a bit better.

But what he told her still seems a little off.

He clears his throat.

“And this is where I’m stuck. I need a twist in the story, but I don’t know how to bring it across without using the obvious.”

“Hmmmm.” Cia furrows her brow. “It’s starring Johnny, you said?”

Buster nods.

She taps a finger against her lips before she speaks up again. “How about this? Johnny’s always kind and nice. Maybe you can use that for a twist. Give your character a reason why he’s trying so hard to always be so nice and collected, maybe because there’s some dark side to him or something. Maybe because he’s afraid his anger would get the best of him one day and he can’t control it. Something like that.” She shrugs. “I know that’s not very Johnny-like, but it’s all I can think of.”

The wheels are turning in Buster’s head. He actually likes the idea, showing a side of Johnny no one has ever seen before, not even Johnny himself.

And it would add some depth and a real twist to the story.

He’s grabbing his pen, about to take down some notes when he realizes that Cia is looking at him.

“That’s actually a really good idea!” he says with a smile. “Thank you, Cia!”

Cia’s face lights up, and Buster can’t remember ever seeing her smile that broadly before. “You’re welcome, Mr. Moon!” she says.

Buster nods towards the office space. “How are things going out there?” he asks.

And the smile is gone from Cia’s face, but Buster had to ask. He wants to know what’s going on before he sends Cia out there again.

“Well, I do think Ms. Crawly wants me to organize the paper clips by color next or something,” she says. She tries to keep the sigh out of her voice, but there’s still a hint of it Buster manages to catch. “She looked a little too long at them this morning.”

“I see. And the papers on her desk?”

“I managed to get a bunch of it done on Friday,” Cia replies.

“Good, thank you,” he says. “Now let me bail you out of this paper clips-disaster. As a little thank you. Instead you go and help Eddie with Meena’s interview training, okay?”

“Okay.” He’s pretty sure she’s trying to keep the relief out of her voice, but just like the sigh, Buster manages to catch it

He leads Cia over to the door of his office.

The moment she enters the office space, Ms. Crawly speaks up.

“Lucia, could you please organize…”

“Ms. Crawly!” Buster calls out. “Now look at that! I send you home early on a Friday and you come back on Monday so refreshed that almost all the papers from your desk are worked off! That’s amazing!”

“Thank you, Mr. Moon!” Ms. Crawly replies.

Buster watches how Cia takes the chance and slips out of the office.


	28. Rosita

Rosita is glad that she doesn’t have to sleep at the hotel any longer. She’s glad that she and Norman don’t have to pretend that everything is just fine between them any longer.

And she’s totally happy that the spirit of their date still seems to linger around because Norman does all these little things he used to do before the daily routine got the best of their relationship, like giving her hand a little squeeze when he stands next to her longer than a few seconds or giving her a real kiss before leaving, not just a peck on her cheek. Or actually talking to her before they go to bed, just minor stuff, how their days were, what funny things the kids did that day, but Rosita loves it so very much.

What she doesn’t like is the fact that she doesn’t seem to be able to come up with a solution. She wracks her brain every free minute she has, even spends entire nights thinking about it, but so far, nothing. Absolutely _nothing_.

Like always when she thinks about it, Rosita feels how her chest tightens.

She _should_ have a solution after hours and hours of thinking about it. Yes, she should, but she doesn’t. And it leads to that terrible lump in her throat that makes breathing so very hard.

She hates it.

And what she hates even more is what this might mean. If she hasn’t been able to come up with a solution yet, this _could_ mean that there is no solution.

But it doesn’t.

Rosita forcefully shakes her head.

No, it doesn’t.

Because there is a solution. There _has_ to be.

She just needs to think about it a little more.

Yes, that’s what she’s going to do.

She still has weeks to think about it, and if she spends every free minute, sometimes even more, on this problem, she’ll find a solution.

If there is one.

Which there is.

She knows it.

She really does.

Rosita takes a deep breath before she enters the office space.

She can go back to thinking about her problem and the solution later. Now she has to talk to Cia.

“Hello, Ms. Crawly!” she greets the iguana, only surprised a little by the fact that she’s sitting at her table quite relaxed and drinking a cup of tea or coffee or whatever it is. Usually, Ms. Crawly is doing something, really slowly, yes, but still _something_.

Rosita can’t remember seeing her sitting at her table like that.

“Hello, Rosita!” Ms. Crawly returns the greeting. “Do you have a meeting with Mr. Moon today? I don’t remember seeing that on today’s calendar.”

“No, no,” Rosita says quickly. “I’m here to say hello to the new secretary.”

“Ah, okay.” There’s something in Ms. Crawly’s voice Rosita doesn’t quite like, but she decides to ignore it and looks around the room.

She sets eyes on a young snow leopard-girl.

With a smile she steps closer.

“You must be Cia,” she says, holding out her hand. “I’m Rosita.”

The snow leopard looks up from her work with a frown, her eyes looking a bit unfocused before she smiles, too, clasps Rosita’s hand and shakes it.

“Yes, I am,” she replies. “Nice to meet you, Rosita!”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Rosita’s smile deepens.

A moment in silence passes where Rosita tries to think of the right words before she speaks up again.

“Look, Johnny told me you helped him out with the kids last Friday,” she finally says. “I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”

“It was nothing!” Cia replies. “Your kids are sweet little angels.”

“Why, thank you!” Rosita says. “They are. But they can be a handful sometimes. So thank you very much for helping Johnny out! I think he got a little ahead of himself there.”

Cia bites down her lip at that, and Rosita can only presume what she’s thinking right now. But if she had to guess she’d say that Johnny getting a _little_ ahead of himself might have been a slight understatement.

She feels a bit bad at that. Poor Johnny! She _tried_ to warn him, didn’t she?

Well, it means she has even more reason to thank Cia for her help.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Rosita says, reaching into her purse for her wallet, “so let me at least pay you for your services.”

Cia looks at her with a raised eyebrow and with such a serious look on her face that Rosita chooses to lower her eyes.

“I don’t know what hourly rate for a babysitter is right now, so would …”

“No,” Cia cuts her short.

Rosita raises her eyes. “But let me at least…”

“No,” Cia interrupts her again.

“But…”

“Rosita, I was helping out a friend,” Cia explains. “I am not going to take your money.”

“But…”

“I repeat: I am _not_ going to take your money.”

Rosita bites down her lip as she puts her wallet back into her purse.

How is she going to thank Cia now?

Her face lights up when she remembers something.

“I invited Johnny over for dinner tomorrow,” she says. “Do you want to join us?”

Cia did speak of Johnny as a friend, so it should be fine if she invited her, too, right?

Cia just looks at her.

“If you’re still free, of course,” Rosita adds quickly. “And if you don’t mind spending another evening with my kids.”

“No, no, of course not!” Cia says hastily. “Your kids are great! And I am free tomorrow. So thanks for the invitation!”

“We eat at seven if that’s okay.”

“It is!”

“Are spaghetti fine for you?”

“Totally!”

Rosita smiles at her.

“By the way,” she says, “I don’t know what you did, but my kids keep asking me when you’ll come over again. They say something about a little bag of wonders, but I have no idea what that means.”

“Oh, that’s our little secret,” Cia replies with a wink.

“You _have_ to tell me!” Rosita almost shouts. “I mean, you got them to clean up the living room!”

Cia laughs a little at that. “I’m sorry, Rosita, but us babysitters have to have our secrets or the little tricks won’t work anymore.”

“Oh.” Rosita tries not to let her disappointment show, but fails miserably. “I see.”

“I’m really sorry, Rosita!” Cia bites down her lip, and Rosita doesn’t like that she seems to struggle with herself.

“How about this?” Cia speaks up before Rosita can say that it’s really not that important. “I’ll tell you after dinner tomorrow under two conditions.”

“Okay.”

“First, you must not tell anyone,” Cia continues. “And second, you can’t use the bag of wonders for yourself. Deal?”

“Deal!” Rosita says, and they shake hands on it. She’s too curious to not agree to these conditions. “See you tomorrow, Cia!”

“Bye, Rosita!”


	29. Johnny

Granted, there hasn’t been _one_ silent moment ever since Johnny entered Rosita’s apartment. The moment he was through the door, three piglets had been clinging to his legs, and he wish he knew why they didn’t do that when Cia arrived. Yes, they tugged her tail a bit when they wanted attention, but they did _not_ climb all over her body, hanging on to her legs and making it difficult for her to move.

Okay, who is he kidding? He loves it.

He loves that the piglets use him as monkey bars - no pun intended -, he loves that they use him as some sort of a taxi to get from one room to another, and he _absolutely_ loves the fact that there’s always some sort of noise around here - the laughter, the chatter, he loves every bit of it.

However, when it’s time for dinner, the piglets show that they can behave, too. Well, sort of. They do take their seats at the table and they do eat without making much of a mess, but the laughter and the chatter although it softens a bit, it’s still there.

Johnny thinks that it’d even be there in some sort of way when they were completely silent.

It just seems to be so much part of this room, this apartment, this _life_ , that he can’t imagine a moment without it. Not even a silent moment.

When he had waited for Rosita and Norman to come back from their date, he had felt it for the first time. The piglets had been fast asleep, Cia had already left, but he still heard it.

Somehow it made him feel warm and comfortable and just right.

Yes, the piglets had almost given him a heart attack that day, but they are good kids.

He wonders if things had been any close to this back when his mum had still been alive. He can’t remember, well, not really. He was so young when she died.

If it weren’t for the photographs of her, he wouldn’t even know what she looked like.

But sometimes he remembers things, just small details, nothing important, just the feeling of a hand patting his head or sitting at a table eating his favorite food and feeling surrounded by warmth and love. He can’t really see his mother, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t even see his father, but he knows they’re there.

It’s his favorite memory.

And sometimes, he even hears the laughter and the chatter in this memory, too.

“So, Johnny,” Rosita says as she hands him a plate of spaghetti, “you _have_ to tell me! What was Gunter’s alarm to remind you to leave on Friday? Techno music? The most annoying beeping sound one can think of?”

“No, worse,” Johnny says, almost choking on his first bite of spaghetti because the memory alone almost makes him burst into laughter again. “A foghorn.”

“A foghorn?” Rosita repeats, and he nods.

“Half of us dropped their tools out of pure shock,” he tells her. “Mike darted towards the door, Ash sent her hammer flying. I do think that was on purpose, though.”

Rosita’s lips curl and then she laughs, the piglets and Norman, even Cia, joining.

Their laughter fills the room, only adding to the warmth spreading in Johnny’s chest which now turns into something bubbling trying to break lose.

And so he doesn’t hold back any longer and laughs with them so much it brings tears to his eyes.

He loves every second of it.

* * *

When he and Cia get ready to leave - Rosita and Norman still have to bring their twenty-five piglets to bed, so it’s only logical that their guests leave before that - Johnny sees how Cia bends down and whispers something into Rosita’s ear.

The pig’s eyes widen.

“Really?” she says. “That’s all?”

“That’s all,” Cia assures her. “And remember the conditions!”

“I do!”

He must still look rather surprised because when they’re out in the corridor, Cia just shrugs.

“I told Rosita about the bag of wonders,” she explains.

“Hey!” Johnny protests. “You made us swear an oath to never tell anyone about it!”

“And I didn’t do anything to make you break that oath,” Cia says. “Because I told Rosita, not you. Besides, she isn’t allowed to tell anyone or use it for herself.”

“But still,” Johnny says, crossing his arms over his chest. “This might call for a special meeting with the piglets.”

Cia twists her mouth into a smirk. “You really want to meet with all of them _alone_?”

“Uhm, no.”

“Thought so!” Cia says before she gives a silent laugh.

They’re out on the street now.

“Okay, I have to go that way,” Cia explains, turning into said direction.

“Want a ride?” Johnny asks, nodding towards his truck parked further down the street.

“No, it’s fine,” she says. “It’s not that far.”

“Then allow me to walk you home.” There might be a lot of things people can say about his father, but he at least taught Johnny how to treat a lady, something Johnny is always going to remember as one of the good things he learned from him.

Cia shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

For a few moments they walk in silence, until curiosity gets the best of Johnny. He’s probably not supposed to talk about it, heck, he isn’t even supposed to _know_ about it, but still, he has to ask.

“How are things going on the heights-front?” he asks, and because he isn’t _supposed_ to ask, he quickly adds, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Cia sighs. “So far, I managed to steer around any heights-problematic situations,” she says. “It asks for a bit creativity sometimes, but it’s okay.”

“When I’m around you can always ask me for help.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do after your help with the piglets.”

Cia smiles at him, but there’s something in her eyes that doesn’t quite match the smile, something sad and hurt, and Johnny decides to lighten the mood.

“And you have to see it that way,” he says. “Things could be worse.”

“They could?”

“Yes, your last name could be Clawson,” he explains.

He expects her to frown at him, to ask who this Clawson is, but instead she bites down her lip and avoids his eyes.

And it hits him.

“Oh my gosh, your last name is Clawson!” he calls out, mentally slapping himself for making this supposed-to-be joke when he did _not_ know what her last name really is. “You’re related to Frederic Clawson, the world’s most famous free climber?”

He didn’t mean it to come out as a question, but it does.

“He’s my father,” Cia replies, and Johnny’s heart sinks.

Yes, this joke definitely went down like a lead balloon.

“Ouch,” he says. “That’s tough.”

“Does he … does he know?” he asks further.

Really, what’s gotten into him? He usually doesn’t ask that many questions, let alone when it comes to such a tricky topic!

“He does, and he’s fine with it. My brother’s the climbing talent, so it’s okay.” Cia still isn’t looking at him. Johnny prepares himself for a few moments of awkward silence, but Cia keeps talking.

“My family still wants me to take over the climbing school one day,” she says. “Just the administration, though, and my brother the action part.”

“And you don’t want this?”

“No.” She slightly shakes her head. “That’s why I came here. To find my own way. My family doesn’t know, though. They think I just took a year off before I start working at the climbing school. Never had the heart to tell them the truth.”

“I see.”

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to lower his eyes. He can relate to that. It took a lot to make him finally tell his father that he didn’t want to be in his gang.

And then he remembers something else.

He digs into the pocket of his jacket.

“Well, this makes so much more sense now,” he says, holding out the piece of paper to her.

“Is that my poem?” she asks.

“Yes,” he replies. “You dropped it at the garage. It’s good.”

“You read it?” Her eyes widen.

“I … I didn’t mean to! It’s just I didn’t know what it was, so I started reading it and then I couldn’t stop because the words really spoke to me and …” He breaks off to take a deep breath. “Here.”

Cia looks from him to the piece of paper than back to him.

“If you really like it that much, you should keep it,” she finally says.

“Really?”

“Really,” she repeats before she sighs again. “It was one of the things I thought I could make a living of - my poems. Unfortunately, no publisher was interested.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Johnny says, putting the piece of paper back into his pocket. “And they must have been blind, by the way. It’s really good.” He hesitates for a moment. “Or maybe I’m just saying that because I can relate to what you’re saying in this poem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” - he takes a deep breath - “what you told me about your family and what you’re saying in this poem, I’ve been through something similar.”

“It’s not easy, huh?”

“No.”

He doesn’t like how dark the mood is right now, such a big difference to the light and full-of-laughter atmosphere back in Rosita’s apartment.

“You’re making it really hard for me to pay you back, by the way,” he says. “First, you help me with the piglets, now you give me this poem. Reeeeeally hard, I might say.”

He hopes she gets that he’s exaggerating here. Well, not really, but he wants to make it sound like he is.

It seems to work because a little smile tugs at the corners of Cia’s mouth. “You don’t have to pay me back anything, Johnny.”

“But I want to!” He really does. There must be something he can do. “Hey, how about this? I know I said I’ll help you with your fear of hei … of falling down whenever I’m around. But what about I help you work on it? My father showed me a few tricks when I was a kid and starting climbing all over the garage. Although I do think, that’s a gorilla-thing to do.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please?”

Cia sighs. “Okay.”

“Awesome!”

Well, Cia doesn’t look like she thinks it’s awesome, but she smiles nonetheless. Johnny’s fine with that. He wants to help her like she helped him.

* * *

When he’s back at his apartment, he takes out the poem from his pocket and reads it again, amazed by how much these words still speak to him after reading them so often.

And then he finds himself humming a melody, a melody he’s never heard before.

Yes, he said he’d help Cia with her fear of heights, but maybe he can help her with a little more than that.

He quickly reaches for his phone.

“Hi Ash!” he says when the porcupine answers the call. “It’s Johnny. I need your help with something.”


	30. Ash

Ash opens the door and lets Johnny in. It’s unusual for him to call later than nine at night, so she’s a bit curious to find out what made him call her.

So of course she asked him to come over as soon as he said he needed her help.

She has no idea what she can help him with, she doesn’t remember being able to help him before with _anything_ , so yes, that only contributes to her curiosity.

“Come on in!” she says with a smile.

Johnny, however, seems a bit hesitant and unsure as he enters her apartment.

“You sure it’s not too late?”

Ash mentally rolls her eyes at that. Johnny who has a father with a criminal past and has a tiny bit of a criminal past himself, Johnny who probably spent nights being on lookouts is afraid he might bother because it’s _late_?

On the other hand, it’s so typical for Johnny, it almost makes her smile.

“Yup,” she says. “Besides, I’m a night owl.”

“You’re a porcupine.”

Now she can’t keep the eye-roll mental any longer.

“Yes, I know,” she says with a sigh. “It’s a saying.”

“Uhm, okay.”

Is it just her or does Johnny seem a little off?

She nods towards the living room. Johnny gets it and walks over to said room.

“You want something to drink?” Ash asks on her way to the kitchen. “Soda? Coffee? Tea?”

She really hopes he settles for something caffeine-free.

She’s still wondering what’s going on, though.

“Tea sounds great!”

“Good!” Ash replies a little too relieved that she now can serve him a calming cup of tea.

Although it does mean she has to settle for tea herself now. She’d prefer coffee, though.

She almost laughs when she remembers that she now has another tea-drinking friend beside Meena. She isn’t sure if she likes it or not.

When she enters the living room with two steaming cups of tea in her hands, she finds Johnny sitting on the couch and staring down on a piece of paper. He quickly stuffs it back into his jacket pocket when she approaches.

It only adds another layer to her curiosity.

Maybe tea was a good idea after all, because now, she’s _dying_ to find out what’s going on.

“Thanks,” Johnny says as she sets his cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him.

Ash climbs the couch next to him, waiting for him to speak up.

When he doesn’t and instead takes a sip of his tea, she follows suit, thinking that he might speak after that.

He doesn’t.

Ash takes another sip of tea.

Okay, no matter how much tea she drank recently, she _still_ doesn’t like the taste. At least she can swallow it down a little easier now.

Johnny still doesn’t make a move to finally tell her what’s going on.

It makes Ash feel a bit antsy, and before her temper gets the best of her - again - she decides she’ll speak up instead.

“Sooooooo,” she drawls. “You said you needed my help with something?”

“Uhm, yes,” Johnny replies. “It’s a bit complicated, though.”

“Okay.”

Ash can only do so much to not shout at him to spit it out.

“See, it’s…” He breaks off mid-sentence, and the urge to shout at him is only increasing. “You know Cia, right?”

“Yup, same Cia who literally threw Lance out of the theater, I guess?”

“The one and only,” Johnny replies. “Well, I found this poem by her and then she gave it to me and now I think that maybe it can be turned into a song.”

Ash waits for him to go into a little more detail which he doesn’t do. That’s bad because she isn’t quite sure she gets what he means.

“You found a poem she gave to you to put into a song?”

Okay, she _tried_.

“No.” Johnny sighs. “She dropped a piece of paper at the garage and I found it. Turned out it was a poem written by her. And when I wanted to give it back to her she said I could keep it.”

He reaches into his pocket and retrieves the piece of paper from before. “Here’s where things get a little complicated. I think it would make some great song lyrics, and I already have some sort of a melody in my head. But I don’t know how to do this. And Cia doesn’t know anything about me wanting to turn her poem into a song.”

Ash thinks she’s finally getting where he’s coming from.

Although she might be the worst possible person to turn to for some song lyrics right now.

“So you didn’t ask for her permission, am I getting this right?”

“Exactly. Is that a problem?”

“Could be if you actually record the song.”

“No, no, I just want to turn it into a song and show it to her,” Johnny replies. “Maybe sing at the charity concert if that’s okay with her.” He sighs. “It’s just, she told me that she couldn’t find a publisher for her poems, and then I realized that maybe it’s because her poems are more like song lyrics. I’m just trying to help her, you know.”

Ash twists her mouth into a smirk. There’s something in the way he says it that makes her want to tease him about it.

“You like her!” she says.

“Sure, she’s nice and all. What’s not to like?”

Mental eye-roll again.

“No, I mean you _lllllllike_ her!” Ash tries again.

“Uhm, that’s what I just said?”

Real eye-roll followed by a sigh. Sometimes, Johnny is a little slow on the uptake. Ash decides to leave it at that. Teasing someone is only funny when this someone actually _gets_ it.

“I get you need my help with the songwriting?”

She has to give it to herself, she manages to keep all the anger and the frustration out of her voice although songwriting is a touchy topic right now.

“Just a few tips on how to do it,” Johnny says. “If that’s okay.”

“It sure is. Now let me have a look at that poem.”

Johnny hands her the piece of paper. Ash reads the words and she has to say, it’s really good. She likes how the words flow, she likes the message, heck, maybe she should ask Cia to write her lyrics!

Although that would still leave her to write the music. Which doesn’t really work right now either. Plus, she isn’t supposed to know anything about Cia’s poem, so unfortunately, that’s off the table.

“I see what you mean,” she says. “I think you can turn this part here into the chorus, maybe adapt it a little at the end of the song to make it a bit more powerful. You said you already have some sort of a melody in your head?”

Johnny nods.

“Okay, then you just have to decide how it works best with the lyrics. You write it down, maybe you’ll have to shift a few words around to make it fit better, and basically, that’s it.” Ash looks up from the poem and in Johnny’s face. “And when you have any questions, need help or anything, give me call.”

She mentally adds that he probably shouldn’t because she still has this problem called writer’s block, but Johnny doesn’t need to know that. Besides, maybe helping someone write their own song could get her creative fluids flowing again. She can only hope so.

Seeing the frown on Johnny’s face she realizes that maybe, she’s looking way too serious herself, so she forces her mouth into a smile.

“Got it?” she asks.

“Got it,” Johnny replies, returning her smile.

“May I ask why this poem?” Ash asks as she hands him back the piece of paper.

Johnny takes it with a shrug. “I don’t know. It just speaks to me.”

“That’s always good,” Ash says, and this time her smile is real. It reminds her of the time when she wrote Set It All Free.

They spend the rest of their evening talking about this and that, and although Ash still wishes she could tease Johnny about Cia she decides against it.

She takes comfort from the fact that she can still tease him when he finally gets it. Even thinking about it makes her smirk.

Johnny usually isn’t the type you want to tease. For one thing, he’s too kind and nice for that, for another thing, he’s still a gorilla with an impressive appearance, and some people just don’t want to mess with him.

That obviously doesn’t go for Ash, though.

She isn’t easily impressed.

When Johnny left, Ash finds herself thinking about that one time Cia threw Lance out of the theater. It still makes her laugh. And she just loves how she justified it because Lance called her kitty, and the little talk they had after that.

_He called me kitty. I hate that. - He keeps calling me babe. I hate that._

She giggles at the memory.

And then there’s this other thought taking over her brain.

_Don’t call me babe…_

Her eyes widen for a second.

_Don’t call me babe!_

There’s more to these words, there’s some sort of a melody.

_Just don’t call me babe!_

The next second she dashes into the living room, grabbing her guitar and her laptop, starting to play a little tune.

She keeps going although she can hear her neighbors complain about the volume at this hour.

As long as they don’t call the police she’s fine with it, because right now, she has a song to write!


	31. Meena

Meena is still surprised how well Ash’s idea worked out. She had a few problems at first to keep the sing-song out of her voice, but during the second training after Ash’s suggestion it worked out just fine..

She waited for Eddie to finish his questions, went over her reply in her head, added a little melody, and then she said the words.

It was easy.

Now, however, all her nervousness and fears are back.

Because today is the day.

The day of the interview.

She didn’t sleep well last night.

Okay, she didn’t sleep _at all_ last night.

And now she’s in the taxi together with Mr. Moon, trying really, really hard to keep her heart beat at a normal rate.

Not to mention that she has to remember to breathe.

“You okay, Meena?” Mr. Moon asks.

For a moment, she thinks of just _pretending_ to be fine, but then she remembers that she’s really bad at it.

Besides, Mr. Moon would see right through her act. He knows her too well.

“More or less,” she says.

The koala holds up his hand. It remembers her of the time of the concert in the ruins of the Moon Theater.

She can only hope that this is a good sign.

Carefully, she places her hand in his.

She learned her lesson there back then when she let her hand fall into his and almost hurt his hand.

No, not today.

Or maybe she should have done it just the way she’s done it back then. Maybe now she ruined her chances of this interview to turn out as well as the concert did. Maybe now she’s doomed to fail! Maybe now…

“Meena,” Mr. Moon interrupts her thoughts, giving her hand a little pat. “Deep breaths.”

It’s the moment she realizes she’s been holding her breath.

She opens her mouth and takes a long, deep breath.

It doesn’t really help, so she takes another one.

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out…

She isn’t sure if it actually helps, but at least it keeps her thoughts at bay, and suddenly they stop in front of the building of the TV station.

Meena inhales sharply, and another pat on her hand reminds her that she’s supposed to take deep breaths. Which she does immediately.

And it doesn’t help.

Mr. Moon leads her over to the building, and then everything turns into a blur as Mr. Moon takes the lead.

Literally.

He leads her to the make-up room, answers questions for her, and she just lets it happen.

He only lets go of her hand when he has to, giving her as much security as he can.

Or trying to, because it doesn’t make feel Meena any more secure. Or just the tiniest bit.

She’d take any sort of security now.

When she gets changed - she has to admit, the dress is really nice, mint green, flowing, she likes it - her fear almost gets the best of her, but the exact moment, Mr. Moon addresses her from the other side of the changing booth.

“You doing okay in there, Meena?” he asks.

Meena can only wonder how he does it. He knows _exactly_ when she’s close to freaking out, saying something to make her calm down enough so she can keep going.

“Sort of,” she says.

“Good.”

When she steps out of the changing booth, Mr. Moon smiles at her.

“Ready?” he asks as he holds out his hand to her.

Meena takes a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Then she takes his hand and lets him lead her to the studio.

As she peeks into the studio, she has to give it to Eddie and the rest of the crew. They really outdid themselves to rebuild this studio, because the real studio looks just the same.

She even thinks that she’s just about to meet Eddie in a tiger mask again.

However, when Richard Stripes, the _real_ Richard Stripes greets her, she realizes that this is the real thing.

Absently, she shakes his hand, even manages to reply that she’s fine when he asks her how she is.

“Well, then,” Richard Stripes says, giving her shoulder an encouraging pat, “let’s get this started.”

And he walks into the studio. The jingle starts, and the tiger does his introduction, and then he says the words Meena has been so afraid of.

“We have a special guest today,” Richard Stripes says. “Some of you may know her, and those who don’t, let me introduce the teenage girl with the amazing voice who overcame her fears and shyness by doing what she loves - singing. Here is Meena!”

Mr. Moon gives her hand one last squeeze and Meena reluctantly lets go before she walks over to Richard Stripes.

The tiger takes her hand and shakes it and then they sit down on the couch together.

“So, Meena,” Richard Stripes says. “I heard you suffered from stage fright.”

Meena just nods as a reply.

“And it was singing that helped you?”

Again, she nods.

“How did you do it?”

Meena bites down her lip for a second, disappointed that she can’t reply to that with a nod or a shake of her head.

She takes a deep breath, going over the words in her head, adding a melody, singing the words in her head.

“Mr. Moon helped me by telling me to just sing.”

Richard Stripes looks at her with wide eyes.

For a moment, Meena wonders why he doesn’t say anything.

And then she realizes that she didn’t just sing the words in her head, she actually _sang_ them.

Now it is her turn to widen her eyes in surprise. And then she feels the lump in her throat, choking her.

She quickly puts her ears over her face as she waits for Richard Stripes to make a funny comment, to laugh, or something like that.

But he just leans back a little.

“Wow,” he says. “Is this the technique you used to overcome stage fright?”

 _No, it isn’t!_ Meena wants to scream. _I screwed up!_

Instead, she just nods.

“This is amazing!” Richard Stripes said.

 _No,_ Meena wants to scream again. _No, it isn’t! I screwed up!_

Again, she just nods.


	32. Rosita

After days of thinking about her problem Rosita is not one step closer to a solution. It’s driving her crazy.

If there is a solution, why isn’t she able to find it?

Unless…

No, she refuses to even think _that!_

Well, instead of thinking what she doesn’t have, maybe she should concentrate on what she’s thought about already. Maybe that’ll help.

Okay, so far she’s thought of commuting, but there’s a problem with that. While it might work for a city that’s close enough to her home city, it most definitely won’t when the tour starts moving farther away. So commuting is off the table.

Unless she can talk to Mr. Moon about only doing the shows close enough for her to commute. But that wouldn’t be a tour then, would it?

She does keep that option in mind, though. Just doing a few shows is still better than doing none at all.

Another idea is that she takes her family with her. Which really isn’t that easy either. Are there enough family-friendly hotels along the way? And even if there are, are there enough twenty-five piglets-friendly hotels among them?

Also, can she ask her family to stay at hotels all the time? What about school? She can’t ask Norman to homeschool or rather _hotel_ -school  their kids, can she?

She sighs as she starts massaging her temples because she feels a headache coming up.

She has some time left before meeting with the others at the Moon Theater to watch Meena’s interview.

The headache makes it hard for her to keep on thinking about her problem, so she decides that instead she should be _doing_ something, something with her hands, some really hard work.

She grabs her bag and leaves for the garage.

She might not be able to help herself with her problem _yet_ , but she can help Johnny with the preparations for the charity concert in the meantime.

* * *

“Rosita, it’s time to leave for the Theater,” Johnny tells her too soon for her taste.

Shouldn’t she finish the floor panels for the stage first? She didn’t even have time to work through her headache yet!

“Can’t we watch the interview here?” she asks without putting away the drill.

“That’s what I said, too,” Johnny replies, “but Eddie insists that we have to watch it at the Theater.”

When she looks up at him, he shrugs. “Dunno what he has planned.”

“Okay,” Rosita says with a sigh, finally putting away the drill.

She’s kind of surprised when she sees Mike and his bodyguards leave the garage, too. Okay, she _already_ was surprised when she found Mike here at the garage working on the lighting and bellowing commands at his bodyguards.

Okay, the bellowing was very much like Mike, but the actual working not so much.

But they need all the help they can get, even that of someone like Mike.

However, when she realizes that Mike’s sports car is following them to the Moon Theater. It makes her frown. And the surprise is back when the sports car parks next to Johnny’s truck and Mike and his bodyguards even follow her and Johnny inside.

Mike? Joining them to watch Meena’s interview? Did she end up in some screwed-up dimension? That so _not_ Mike!

Johnny checks his phone.

“Eddie says we should meet on the stage,” he explains. “I’ll go get Ash. She’s still in the rehearsal room. Could you get Cia and Ms. Crawly?”

“Sure thing!” Rosita replies, as she sets out for the office.

* * *

When she arrives on stage with Cia and Ms. Crawly, Rosita thinks she understands now why Eddie insisted to watch the interview here.

Well, sort of.

Sure, she’s heard that Eddie had rebuild the studio of News in the Afternoon, she just didn’t know he’s done such an amazing job.

Although she almost chuckles when she sees Eddie in his Richard Stripes-costume. She can swallow down the chuckle, though.

Mike, however, has to make a comment, of course.

“Wow, we doing the interview here or anything?” he asks. “I appreciate the thought, Eddie, but do you really think someone’s going to figure you for the real Richard Stripes?”

Eddie rolls his eyes behind his tiger mask.

“No, we are not doing the interview here, Mike,” he says. “We’re here to support Meena. She did so great here during training that I thought this might send some positive vibes her way.”

Mike shrugs. “Knowing Meena she’s going to need it,” he says as he climbs the couch.

Ash rolls her eyes at that before she sits down next to Eddie, and pretty soon they are all seated on the couch or on the floor and concentrate their attention on the TV someone - probably Eddie - has set up opposite the couch.

Eddie turns it on, and pretty soon the opening of News in the Afternoon flickers over the TV.

Rosita has to admit, Meena looks nice in this mint green dress, but she looks so nervous when she steps into the studio it makes Rosita feel sorry for her.

Richard Stripes, however, is doing a great job. He allows Meena to reply with a nod as long as he can, but when he asks her a question she can’t reply with a nod, Rosita holds her breath. Mentally, she crosses her fingers.

_You can do this, Meena!_

And then Meena sings her reply and Rosita claps her hands over her mouth. Ash, next to her, inhales sharply.

Mike lets out a laugh. Rosita wants to give him a warning glare, but turns her head just in time to see Ash push him off the couch.

Mike’s bodyguards are about to rush forward, but Ash makes them stop them with a death-glare that sends a shiver down Rosita’s spine, even though the porcupine doesn’t even look at her directly.

“And this is why I told you it’s a bad idea to let her sing her replies!” Eddie calls out.

Ash sends her death-glare his way which makes him shrink into himself.

“I’m just saying,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Okay, guys, let’s watch the rest of the interview,” Johnny tells them. “She can probably turn it around.”

Rosita just nods and turns back to the TV.

Richard Stripes is amazing. He doesn’t laugh or act somehow shocked, no, he just sees Meena’s singing as the method how she overcame stage fright.

Again, Rosita has her fingers crossed - for real this time - that Meena is going to do great from now on. Richard Stripes asks her a few questions she can reply with a nod, but when he asks about how Meena ended up performing at the Moon Theater, she again sings her reply.

It makes Rosita clasp her hands over her mouth.

* * *

The interview isn’t bad, it’s just not what they expected, Rosita thinks. Meena keeps singing her replies, and Richard Stripes compliments her on her great voice to which Meena reacts with a sung thank you.

When the interview is over, they all sit there in silence.

“Uhm, that was…,” Johnny begins, but he breaks off.

“Not what we were hoping for,” Cia says.

They all nod in agreement.

“Question is,” Ash speaks up, “what are we going to do now?”

“Well, it wasn’t bad,” Rosita says. “Richard Stripes really seemed to like it. So I guess we should tell Meena exactly that.”

She looks around and the others reply with nods. Except for Mike who just crosses his arms over his chest and rolls his eyes.

“Okay, up, everyone!” Rosita calls out. “Let’s make some banners!”

* * *

Rosita doesn’t know why it had to be banners, but she thinks they might cheer Meena up. So they wrote down things like “You did great!” and “Way to go, Meena!” and things like that down on the banners in all the colors they could find.

And now they wait for Meena to arrive on the stages of the Theater.

The atmosphere is thick, and that Mike just wrote down “Meena” on his tiny banner seems a little off as does his twisted mouth and his still crossed arms. But at least he’s there.

Which means something when it comes to Mike.

Then a taxi stops in front of them, they all hold their breath. And when Meena climbs out of the taxi after Mr. Moon they start cheering.

Meena, however, does something Rosita has never seen her do before. She just twists her mouth.

Rosita expected her to put her ears over her face, but she doesn’t do that.

“What is this?” she asks.

“Well, you did great, and we wanted to tell you that,” Rosita explains.

“I did not,” Meena replies.

Her voice is low as her voice is most of the times, but there’s something in it, Rosita does _not_ like.

“You sure did!” Johnny says.

“I did not!” Meena’s voice is a little louder now.

“But you did, dear!” Ms. Crawly chimes in.

“I DID NOT!” Meena yells at them. “I _SCREWED_ UP!”

Ash lets her banner sink and takes a few steps forward. “But…”

“No buts!” Meena says so angrily, she makes Ash - _Ash_ of all people! - stop rooted to the spot.

“I screwed up!” Meena shouts again. “And I would appreciate if you would finally admit it!”

And with that she turns around and stomps away.

For lack of knowing what else to do, Rosita just watches her leave.


	33. Mike

Mike gives a little laugh when Meena storms off. He looks into the round. They all look very confused and unsure of what to do.

Really? Don't they _get_ it?

Granted, he isn't even sure why he gets it. Okay, he is sure, he just doesn't know why he _cares_.

With a roll of his eyes he lets his banner fall to the ground and motions to his bodyguards to follow him as he sets into motion.

He does make sure, though, that he looks bored and like he _doesn't_ care.

He doesn't run, he just walks, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

He could be walking anywhere. It could be just a coincidence that he's walking into the same direction Meena stomped off.

He isn't sure if the others watch him. He presumes they do. He doesn't care.

Okay, he doesn't like it, but it can't be changed.

He adds a little extra "I'm just walking here"-attitude to his tread.

Which doesn't make any sense. If he actually left, he'd take his car.

But hey, he has a reputation to keep.

As soon as he's sure he's far enough away he picks up a little speed.

For a moment, he even thinks he lost Meena, but she's easy to find.

She's _tall_.

He follows her at a little distance. Then she turns into the park.

Mike looks over his shoulder to check if his bodyguards are still with him.

Which they are. Of course.

Heck, he's paying them well.

And with that he enters the park.

He finds Meena sitting on a bench, her face buried in her hands.

And suddenly he doesn't feel so sure what he's doing here any longer.

He shouldn't care.

He's Mike, "I only care about myself"-Mike.

No, more like "I only care about myself and Nancy"-Mike.

Maybe that's the problem.

If one can call it a problem.

Nancy has turned him into a caring being.

Maybe that's the price you pay when you love and care for someone. You start caring about others, too.

He shrugs and then jumps up on the bench next to Meena.

She doesn't seem to realize.

He looks for his bodyguards who are close-by, gesturing at them to stay at a distance.

"Rough day, huh, Jumbo?" he says matter-of-factly.

Meena jumps a little at the sound of his voice, then sits up a little more straight. She lets her hands slide down her face a little, so she can look at him.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Sitting on a park bench on a beautiful day."

"That's not what I meant," Meena says.

"But that's what I said." He shrugs again. "Besides, it's the truth."

Actually, he isn't so sure what he's doing here any longer. He's not good at this giving comfort-thing. Never has been.

He knows how to comfort Nancy, but something tells him expensive jewelry and fancy clothes wouldn't work for Meena. Exquisite chocolates, maybe, but Meena probably doesn't care about the exquisite-part.

Meena takes her hands from her face and stares into the distance.

She seems to wait for him to speak up, but he has no idea what to say. Except for one thing.

"You screwed up," he says.

There are a lot of things that can be said about him, that he's a pleaser and a trickster, and they are all true, but he's never been dishonest with Meena.

He's been a little too honest, probably, when he told her to get off the stage because she was useless during rehearsals, but he did have a point back then.

And he has a point now.

Meena turns her head to look at him.

He isn't sure, but that in her eyes could be surprise.

"Yes," she says, her voice little more than a whisper, "I did."

Mike shrugs. "So what are you going to do next?"

"Next?"

"Yes, this is how this works," he explains. "The screwing up, I mean. You try something, you screw up, you pick up the pieces, and then you do something."

"But what?"

"I can't tell you that. You have to figure it out yourself."

_You have to figure it out yourself, Mike._

The words his father said to him so many years ago.

It was after he's been caught cheating during a test at school.

His father could have told him that he should have studied harder, that he shouldn't have been so stupid to get caught, all these things, and he said neither of them.

He just told Mike that he screwed up and that now he has to figure out what to do next.

And that, he did. He took the test again after begging his teacher to give him another chance for three days straight. That time, he had a better cheat sheet and didn't get caught.

And suddenly it all comes together in Mike's head.

He isn't here because he cares - well, not primarily, and somehow, this makes him feel better.

He's here because he knows a whole lot about screwing up.

"I know it all looks terrible right now and you wish you could turn back time and do it again, better this time. But first, you can't, and second, who says you're actually going to do better a second time? So you pick up what's left of your pride from the ground, take a deep breath and figure out what to do next."

"Hm." Meena lowers her eyes to the ground. "Any ideas?"

"A few," he admits.

Really, he does, maybe a side-effect of having screwed up so often in his life.

Meena looks at him. "Mind sharing them with me?"

"Nah," he says with a little laugh. "I told you, you have to figure it out yourself."

"Oh." She lowers her eyes again.

"Only that much, Jumbo," he says as he gets up. "It's not as bad as you think."

She looks at him again. "What do you mean?"

He laughs again, a little louder this time. "You really want to get an answer out of me, huh?"

"Well, duh!"

"Okay, they can say a lot of things about you now, but there's one thing they can't deny," - he pauses a bit for some dramatic effect - "you, my lil' Jumbo, have an amazing _singing_ voice."

He taps his hat as a greeting, jumps down the bench and walks back to his bodyguards before Meena can say something.

He feels somehow relieved which is kind of odd.

Must be because he's finally getting away from Meena, he tells himself when he reaches his bodyguards.

That's the only logical explanation, isn't it?


	34. Buster

Buster thinks that this must be the first time he's actually looking forward to the meeting with Nana Noodleman.

And it for sure is the first time he asked for a meeting with Nana Noodleman.

Which might be the reason he's looking forward to it.

Because today, he has to tell her something important.

He's finished his new show.

The corners of his mouth quirk into a smile.

He's finished his new show!

And once again, for good measure, he's finished his new show!

He can't help, but giggle at the thought, making some animals give him weird looks. Okay, it must look funny to be passed by a giggling koala on a bike, but heck, he couldn't care less!

For heaven's sake, he's finished his new show!

With a little laugh, he parks his bike in front of Nana Noodleman's mansion, takes one deep breath to calm himself down, grabbing his bag with the notes a little tighter before he rings the bell.

* * *

Nana Noodleman looks over the pages, her mouth twisted, and Buster isn't sure how to read her expression.

Nana Noodleman's mouth is twisted ninety percent of the time, she wears this bored and angry look on her face ninety-five percent of the time. And she even does it when she's neither bored nor angry, so it's hard to tell what she's actually thinking.

There's only one thing that always makes her smile and leaves her eyes glistening. And that's the squids.

For a moment, Buster thinks of mentioning what he has planned for the squids again, add a little detail here and there, but he decides against it.

She must see through this act by now, and if she doesn't, he doesn't want to _make_ her see through it.

"I…," - he clears his throat - "I know there are some scenes that still need a little polishing, but all in all, that's it."

"Hm." It's the only sound Nana Noodleman has made ever since he finished his explanations.

He didn't like the silence that followed before and he doesn't like the silence that follows now.

He looks from her face to the papers and back to her face before he lowers his eyes back to the papers.

He shifts a little in his seat.

Could she please say something? _Anything?_

Right now, he doesn't even care if she tears his show apart bit by bit if she'd just speak up!

Okay, he does care, but it'll still be better than this silence that has been stretching out for way too long.

Nana Noodleman taps a piece of paper with her fan.

"I like this twist here in this scene," she says, and Buster can only do so much as to not release the breath he's been holding in a loud sigh. Instead, he just starts breathing again.

The scene Nana Noodleman is pointing to is the one he's almost lost his mind over. Until Cia helped him out.

"Oh, thank you!" he says. "I had a little help with that."

He doesn't know why he said that, but he doesn't regret it. Cia _did_ help him out, so he can at least give her credit for it.

Nana Noodleman nods her head in something he can only name as approval.

"It gives the story more depth," she says. "And I do like the fact that you, again, stay as close as possible to the lead's real story."

Buster's eyes widen a little in surprise. He didn't think Nana Noodleman would know _anything_ about his singers' background stories, but yet again, this is Nana Noodleman. No one knows for sure what she knows and what she doesn't.

Buster clears his throat again. "So all in all, what do you think?"

He isn't sure if it was a good idea to ask. Maybe he should have given her more time to put her thoughts into words. But heck, he _needs_ to know!

The diva straightens her back and looks down at him with that bored and angry expression on her face.

Yes, he knows that doesn't mean she really is bored and/or angry, but it makes him shrink into himself the tiniest bit. He still forces his mouth into a smile although the corners of his mouth already start hurting.

Nana Noodleman cocks her head the tiniest bit and her expression turns into something warmer.

"All in all, I like your new show," she says.

He sighs for real this time which makes the sheep raise a brow at him.

"You are right about the polishing, though," she goes on.

It makes him flinch a little.

That was something he just said to say _something_. He didn't mean it!

He doesn't even know which scenes she's referring to!

Should he ask? But that would show her that he doesn't know what is going on.

No, he can't do that, can't risk it.

"Hahaha, I know," he says with an insecure laugh. "I'll start working on that today."

"Good." Nana Noodleman nods her head. "You are dismissed."

At these words Buster jumps to his feet, collecting his papers and stuffing them into his bag.

"I'm glad you like it, Nana," he says while doing so. "You aren't going to regret funding this new show."

"I don't have a doubt," she says as she gets to her feet herself.

She's standing there, her back so very straight, her expression so majestic, it reminds Buster why she's called the last diva alive.

With a just as majestic gesture she holds out her right hand to him. Buster takes it and kisses it before he turns to leave.

* * *

On his ride back to the theater he wracks his brain for what scenes actually might need some polishing.

He really can't wrap his head around it.

His face lights up when an idea forms in his brain.

He pulls out his phone, dialing a number. He almost crashes into a lamp post when he looks up from his phone again, making a mental note that driving a bike and making a call might not be such a good idea.

But he can't wait for this until he's back at the theater.

He's just too impatient.

"Hello, Cia? This is Mr. Moon," he says. "We are going to have a little meeting in my office as soon as I'm back. … No, you don't have to inform anyone. I meant you and me. … No, you aren't in trouble, no worries. See you later! Bye!"

He ends the call and almost crashes into another lamp post when he looks up at the street again.

_What was that about a mental note, Buster?_ he reminds himself, shaking his head.


	35. Johnny

Johnny loves how the work at the garage is coming along. They got so much done already.

Granted, there's a lot of work left to do, but the stage is almost finished - which makes them get a big step closer to the concert.

So Johnny is sure they can mount the concert in two weeks like they've planned.

Invitations are out already, and they are now trying to get the performance itself figured out, the list of songs, the order of the artists.

Yes, it's all a bit on short notice, but as soon as Johnny had the idea he just couldn't wait to get things started.

And now the concert and with it the youth center is within his reach!

It's so exciting!

There's still this concert with Meena coming up, but after that, his next concert is going to be the charity concert.

Speaking of being excited, he also managed to finish the song he turned Cia's poem into. He made a record of it with his phone and sent it to Ash.

She liked it. And knowing Ash, she wasn't just being nice, because, well, that wouldn't be very Ash.

She even asked him to come over in the next days because she wrote some new songs herself and want to show them to him.

He's actually looking forward to it. Hanging out with Ash, singing some songs, getting and giving feedback on the songs - yep, that sounds like a great evening.

But first, he has this meeting with Mr. Moon. They are going to talk about Mr. Moon's new play and Johnny's role in it, and then, of course, they are going to talk about the charity concert itself.

He's really looking forward to this meeting.

And he wants to remind Cia that she promised to come to the garage after work sometime this week. So far, she's managed to always have to have something else to do.

Which makes him start to think she's maybe making things up so she doesn't have to face her fear of heights.

Okay, he _knows_ she's making things up.

But he's eager to help her with her fear of heights as a little thank-you for all the things she's done for him.

Besides, he needs to tell her about the song he's turned her poem into. So he has to talk to her alone. And not on the phone. That's something that needs to be told face to face.

Okay, that's the part he's afraid of.

What if she doesn't like the song? What if she _hates_ it? What if she says she never wanted it to be turned into the song?

He's starting to understand why Cia is avoiding him. A little bit, at least.

He knows the song is good - or he hopes so.

Okay, now he's completely getting it.

Maybe he should wait for Ash to hear the song live and giving her okay.

Yes, that's what he's going to do.

But first, the meeting with Mr. Moon.

And before that he needs to ask Cia to come to the garage.

When he opens the door to the office, he's a bit disappointed that he finds Cia's place empty.

"Oh, hello, Ms. Crawly!" he greets the iguana.

"Hello, Johnny!"

He's a bit surprised by the fact that Ms. Crawly's desk isn't covered in papers. But he likes that he can actually _see_ her.

"Ms. Crawly, where's Cia?"

"Cia?"

"Yes", he says. He's a bit confused by Ms. Crawly's reaction. Yes, he knows she's old, but senile? Not Ms. Crawly. "The other secretary?" he specifies.

"Oh, you mean Lucia!" Ms. Crawly says. "She has a meeting with Mr. Moon." She nods at the door of Mr. Moon's office which opens in exact this moment and Cia steps outside, still talking to Mr. Moon.

"There she is!" Ms. Crawly says.

Cia turns towards them.

"Lucia?" Johnny asks with a raised brow.

"I prefer Cia," the snow leopard replies.

"You do?" Ms. Crawly says. "Then why didn't you tell me?"

Cia shrugs. "Didn't seem that important."

When Johnny steps closer, she whispers, "I have, like, a hundred times."

He silently giggles at that.

"Ready for our meeting, Johnny?" Mr. Moon asks.

"Yes, Mr. Moon!"

But before he enters the office, he turns to Cia.

"Oh, and Cia, you coming to help at the garage after work?" he asks.

"I … uhm …"

He can tell she's wracking her brain for an excuse.

"I have a lot of work to do," she finally says. "I'm so sorry."

Johnny twists his mouth a little at that, but he has to give it to her. She really makes it sound like she's sorry for real. And she maybe she is.

"You know what, Cia?" Mr. Moon chimes in. Johnny can only think that he's heard it, too. "You're doing such an amazing job here, you can leave for the afternoon."

"Uhm, okay," Cia says. "Thank you, Mr. Moon."

Johnny has to admit, she doesn't sound too thankful about it.

* * *

Johnny is standing next to a ladder.

Cia looks from him to the ladder and back to him.

"I guess there's no way out yet?" she says. "Or is there?"

"Nope," Johnny says.

Cia sighs. "You sure?"

"Absolutely."

She sighs again. "Okay."

She steps a bit closer to the ladder.

Johnny takes a step to the side and Cia comes to a halt at the foot of the ladder.

She stares up - and freezes.

Johnny has seen her like this before, back when Eddie asked her to turn on the spotlight.

He very carefully places a hand on Cia's back. She jumps a little at that, and he immediately feels sorry, but he wants to let her know that he's there. And he just couldn't think of anything else.

"One rung at a time, okay?" he says.

"Okay," Cia replies, her voice a bit breathless.

Johnny adds a little more pressure to his hand on her back.

Cia carefully ascends one rung, takes a little break, then the next one.

Johnny climbs the ladder behind her, his hand still on her back.

They've already managed half the ladder when Johnny realizes the break between rungs is taking Cia longer than before.

He waits a little longer, then decides to address her.

"Cia?" he asks gently.

Cia inhales sharply.

"Let me down," she says.

"It's fine, Cia," Johnny assures her. "I'm right here."

"Let me down," she repeats, a little louder.

"Cia, you can't fall down, I'm right here behind you."

"Let me down!"

Johnny remembers what his father once said to him when he had climbed up someplace in the garage and had been too scared to climb down.

_Johnny, you made it up, you're gonna make it down again. And if you have troubles, I'm right here to catch you._

"You can do it, Cia," he says. "Just a few more rungs and we're going to climb down again."

"Johnny, let me down!" Cia yells.

Johnny wants to tell her one more time that she can do it, but she's already trying to climb down. And when he doesn't react she kicks at him.

He's sure she doesn't want to hurt him. She just wants to get down. And she misses him anyway.

For a moment, he thinks of trying once again, but Cia is breathing so loudly, he just decides it might be too much. So he climbs down, letting her set the pace. And she's fast. While it took them felt ages to get up the ladder, it takes them a fraction of the time to get down.

Once down, he steps aside and Cia sinks to her knees as soon as she feels the ground under her feet.

She's breathing heavily, and Johnny's starting to think that he might have overdone it.

"Cia," he says gently as she gets up, lifting his hand to put it on her shoulder. "I'm …"

He never gets to finish the sentence.

_Smack!_

He places the hand he wanted to lay on Cia's shoulder on his cheek where Cia had slapped him.

With wide eyes he turns towards Cia.

It's the moment he sees the tears in her eyes. "Oh gosh, Cia, I … I'm sorry," he says. He doesn't care about his burning cheek any longer. "I was just trying to help."

"I never asked for your help!" Cia yells before she storms off.

Johnny watches her leave, letting his hand sink from his cheek. He doesn't care that it still hurts a bit.

* * *

The next day he runs to the office as soon as he can, hoping that a day to cool off was enough for Cia so they can talk. And so he can apologize because now he's completely sure that he overdid.

When he enters the office, he finds Cia's place empty again.

"Good morning, Ms. Crawly! Where's Cia?" he asks.

"Hello, Johnny!" the iguana replies. "Cia took a few days off."

"When is she going to be back?"

Ms. Crawly shrugs. "She didn't say."

"Oh."

Johnny feels his heart sink.

He has this bad feeling that this is his fault.


	36. Ash

Ash is so looking forward to Johnny's visit. They're going to eat pizza, talk about music and - that's the most important part! - they are going to sing their new songs.

Okay, _song_ in Johnny's case. Singular. Which still is amazing because it's the first song he wrote. With unintended help from Cia, but still.

And it's _songs_ for Ash which is so very amazing, she's still giggling about it like an idiot.

Also, who is she to judge when it comes to Cia's unintentional help? She wrote two songs because of her.

She still needs to thank her, though.

Actually, she wanted to do that today after she showed up at the Moon Theater to rehearse her new songs, but according to Ms. Crawly, Cia took a few days off.

So this will have to wait.

She checks the clock. Johnny should show up any minute now.

Oh boy, this is going to be so much fun! One night of music!

Good thing she's a night owl. Although Johnny would probably insist that she's a porcupine.

She giggles at the memory of him _correcting_ her.

So, does this make her a night owl-ish porcupine or a porcupinal night owl?

Maybe she should ask Johnny about it.

She laughs at the thought.

The doorbell rings and Ash darts to open it.

"Johnny!" she greets her gorilla-friend. "How are you?"

"Fine," he replies, and Ash frowns because he sounds anything, but fine.

But okay, it's _Johnny_. Maybe he just needs a little time to warm up.

So she shrugs it off and leads Johnny to the living room.

"Okay, how about we order pizza?" she asks.

Johnny shrugs. "Sure, why not?"

Ash twists her mouth at this. That still sounded a bit off, but she can't really put her finger on it. She knows the best way to get Johnny to talk is to bring up something music-related. Or maybe letting him sing. She has both things planned for tonight.

So she quickly hands him the menu and lets him pick his order. She already knows what she wants.

Which is good. It means they can get to the music-part of this evening sooner.

Johnny looks like he needs it.

* * *

_I'm not a sweetheart,_  
I'm not a darling.  
Calling me that  
will leave me snarling.

 _I am just_  
what I want to be.  
Everything I am  
is just me.

 _Yes, you got that, right._  
I am me!  
Oh yes, I am me!

Ash plays the last chords on her guitar and looks at Johnny with expectant eyes.

Johnny just looks back at her.

"So?" she asks. "What do you think?"

Okay, the bad feeling she had before is increasing. Something _is_ wrong with Johnny.

He usually doesn't need to be asked to talk about music.

"I like it!" he says a little too quickly. "The melody is nice, and the lyrics are, too."

 _Nice?_ Yep, change that to _really wrong_. Johnny usually gives better feedback.

"Thanks," she says, and she doesn't even try to keep her disappointment out of her voice. "It was inspired by Cia."

Is it just her or did Johnny just flinch a little?

"You know, she hates being called kitty," she goes on. "But she's a cat, so in a way, she's always a kitty. So I wrote this song about a girl being a real sweetheart, but the moment you call her that, she gets angry."

"Good idea," Johnny says with a little nod of his head.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Ash asks, putting her guitar away.

Johnny's eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

"Something's wrong because this," - Ash gestures at him - "isn't the Johnny I know."

"I don't know what you mean."

The way he's avoiding her eyes, though, tells Ash that he knows _exactly_ what she means.

"Oh, don't you?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "You are not as excited as you normally are when it comes to music, you call my song _nice_ , you're here for an hour now and you did _not_ sing this new song of yours yet. Do I need to get into more details?"

Johnny lowers his eyes to the floor. Ash takes this as a no. She's on the right track.

"So are you going to tell me or do I need to guess?" she asks further.

Johnny doesn't react.

"Okay, you asked for it," Ash says. "Cia."

Johnny flinches a little again.

"There we go," Ash says, her mouth turning into a triumphant grin. "What happened between you two?"

"N-nothing…"

She ignores his comment, just goes on. "Did you ask her out and she said no?"

Johnny turns to her with wide eyes. "Why would I her ask her out?"

Ash rolls her eyes at that. For a moment there she forgot that this is Johnny and he seems to be slow when it comes to this kind of thing. He didn't even get it when she tried to tease him about liking Cia. He probably still hasn't it figured out yet.

So she says, "I was just joking."

Actually, she wasn't, but she adds another roll of her eyes to emphasize her words.

"So, what happened?"

"Uhm…" Johnny lowers his eyes to the floor again.

"Do you want me to keep joking?" she asks. "I'll go into more details next, as in _lewd_ details, if you know what I mean."

She really hopes he does. Because she isn't sure she actually _wants_ to go into lewd details here.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you!" Johnny says, holding up his hands in a surrendering gesture.

"Good," Ash says. She climbs the couch and settles down next to Johnny, silently releasing the breath she's been holding while doing so.

Johnny runs his fingers through his hair and sighs.

"Well, I wanted to help her with something," he finally begins. "I overdid it, and I think she hates me now."

"Hmmmmm," Ash makes. "What did you do?"

"I'm not sure I should tell you that. It's personal. I just tried to help her, but she said she never asked for my help."

Okay, it's hard to give someone advise if said someone is keeping what happened so vague, but Johnny has his reasons, Ash thinks.

"Did you apologize?" she asks.

"Didn't get a chance to," Johnny replies. "She was already gone when I wanted to."

"Oh, that's tough." Now it's Ash's turn to lower her eyes. Then she shrugs. "But you can do that when she comes back."

Johnny sighs again, and Ash looks at him from the corner of her eye.

"If she comes back," he says.

Ash turns her head to look at him, her eyes wide. "That bad?"

"Could be," Johnny says with a shrug.

"Hey, don't get ahead of yourself!" Ash says, putting a hand on his arm. "You can still think about that if she doesn't come back. Until then, think of what to tell her. And I am sure she's going to come back, though. She likes the theater."

Johnny turns his head and looks at her. "Thank you, Ash!"

"You're welcome, Johnny!" she replies with a smile. She's relieved when Johnny replies with a smile of his own.

"Besides, I am pretty sure you meant good," she adds. "But just so we're clear, we are not talking about that song you turned her poem into, are we?"

"No." Johnny shakes his head.

"Good." Ash's smiles broadens. "Because if you show her this song, she's going to forgive you _anything!_ "

"You think?" Johnny asks. "What if she doesn't like it?"

"It's a great song! She'd be _crazy_ not to like it!" Ash explains.

"And what if she doesn't?"

Ash chews on the inside of her cheek for a second. She can't even imagine someone _not_ liking this song, but she doesn't know Cia that well.

"You'll have to wait and see," she says with a shrug. "I don't believe she won't like it, though."

"Thank you, Ash!" Johnny says again, and the smile he's giving her is so warm she _has_ to return it just as warmly.

"Sooooo," she drawls after a few moments of silence, "are we going to sing some songs or are we going to sing some songs?" She winks at him.

Johnny laughs. "Hmmmm, difficult decision," he says. "But if I _must_ decide, I'd say we're going to sing some songs."

Ash laughs, too, as she jumps off the couch.

"Then let's do this!" she calls out, grabbing her guitar.


	37. Meena

Meena takes a look at her alarm clock and sighs. On a normal day she would get up now and get ready for school.

But this isn't a normal day.

It's the third day after _The Interview_ , how Meena ended up calling it.

The Interview.

That horrible, horrible day in her life.

At least she managed to persuade her mother to let her stay home from school for a few days.

Until she knows how to handle things.

She rolls on her other side, trying really hard to go back to sleep, but sleep just isn't coming her way.

With a sigh she sits up and reaches for her phone.

No one's called her today, but that's not unusual. The calls from her friends at the theater start at around nine in the morning and end at around ten in the evening.

So far she hasn't answered any of their calls, no matter who called her - Mr. Moon, Ash, Rosita, Johnny, Eddie, she just let her phone ring and ring and ring. And when it got too annoying she muted her phone.

However, she started wondering if her friends took turns to call her. They call her at least fifteen times a day, and she's pretty sure at least one of them called her mom to check if she's okay.

Which is fine.

She knows they're worried.

She knows she should probably answer her phone and talk to them. But it just didn't feel right the past two days. Maybe it'll feel right when whoever is on Calling Meena-duty in the morning calls her. She'll have to wait and see.

It's not that she doesn't appreciate the thought. They wanted to make her feel better.

But the way they did it was just wrong.

Telling her she did great while she screwed up!?

Wrong, so very wrong!

Things would have been a little different if they just had some encouraging things written down on their banners, but telling her how great she did?

No, just no!

She received an email from Richard Stripes yesterday, telling her how much he enjoyed talking to her. And that he liked that she sang her replies because this was something no one has ever done before. _Very original_ was what he called it.

If he only knew.

She wasn't being original or anything, she was just screwing things up.

She should be happy, though, that the grand Richard Stripes liked what she did.

She doesn't know what other people think, though.

She doesn't even know what her friends think.

Do they really think she did great? Or do they think that, while not what they had in mind, what she did during this interview was okay?

Meena just thinks that it would be worse if they thought she actually did great.

That moment her phone rings.

Meena grabs it, checking the caller ID.

Rosita.

Before she can think it over, she answers the call.

* * *

"I was so glad when you finally answered your phone!" Rosita greets her when Meena enters her apartment. "I mean your mom said you were okay, but we were worried!"

Meena puts her ears over her face a little at that. She knew that her friends were worried about her, but now actually hearing it makes her feel bad anyway.

She didn't want them to worry. Okay, maybe a little.

But still, she feels sorry for that now.

"Here," she says holding out a little paper bag to Rosita. "I made you some cookies."

"Oh, thank you, Meena!" the pig replies with a smile.

She gestures towards the living room and Meena follows her there.

Pretty soon they are both seated on the couch, drinking tea and munching away on the cookies Meena made.

Rosita sighs.

"Look, I'm sorry," she finally says. "These banners? They were my idea. We just wanted to make you feel better. I guess we overdid it. Sorry for that!"

"I'm sorry, too," Meena replies. "For reacting the way I did. I should have seen that you meant well. Heck, I even knew you meant well! I was just so… so…" She breaks off.

"Frustrated? Angry?" Rosita suggests.

"Both!" Meena calls out. "I mean I screwed up, and no one - not even my friends told me so! It felt so…" She breaks off again.

"Wrong? Annoying?"

"Both!" Meena says again. "But I'm sorry for the things I said. And for the way I said them."

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say we're sorry, too. But I am going to the garage later to help Johnny with the preparations for the charity concert. I bet the others are going to be there, too. Want to join us?"

Meena thinks about it for a moment.

"Under one condition," she finally says.

"Yes?"

"We have to bake cookies for all of them!"

"Deal!"

* * *

 

When the cookies are in the oven, Rosita and Meena settle down at the kitchen table for another cup of tea.

Meena realizes how her friend keeps her eyes lowered and isn't as energetic as she usually is.

"Rosita, are you okay?" she asks.

"Sure."

"What's wrong?"

Rosita looks up, her eyes wide.

"Nothing," she says, but there's a ring to her voice that makes Meena think that she doesn't even believe it herself.

So Meena just raises a brow and twists her mouth a little, and Rosita sighs.

And then she tells Meena about the deal she has with Norman and how much she wants this tour, but she doesn't know what to do. Meena listens carefully.

"Because I can't live out of a hotel room with a husband and twenty-five kids, you know," she ends her explanation. "The kids are so young, I don't think it'd be good for them to have to change schools every few weeks or even months. But I can't ask Norman to help me home- or rather hotel-school them. It's a mess!" She takes a deep breath.

"And getting them a private teacher?" Meena suggests.

"I thought of this, too," Rosita replies, "but that doesn't solve the hotel situation. I don't think having to live in a hotel and moving every few weeks is good for them either."

Rosita takes another sip of her tea, then shrugs. "All I can think of is doing only part of the tour, and that's probably my only option, or I might have to give up the whole tour." She sighs again. "I don't like this solution, though."

Meena nods. She hates to see Rosita like this. So sad, her brow furrowed, her eyes lowered.

This might not be the right time for a little joke, but she can't think of anything else to do to lighten the mood.

_Please don't hate me for this, Rosita!_

"Too bad you can't put wheels under your home and take it with you," she says, adding a little insecure laugh.

Rosita looks at her, then laughs a little herself.

Encouraged, Meena goes on. "I mean, imagine what the building would look like if you took the apartment out, and then think of how you maneuver through the streets! Although it might come in handy during a traffic jam. You could cook dinner in the meantime."

Rosita laughs a little louder at that, and Meena joins in.


	38. Rosita

_Too bad you can't put wheels under your home and take it with you._

Meena's words are circling in Rosita's brain, while they are on their way to the garage, while Rosita starts her work at the garage, even after she leaves to get ready for her show tonight.

Rosita doesn't even know why.

Why would she even think about it?

Yes, they were joking about it and it's still a funny thought to imagine her cooking dinner while trapped in a traffic jam.

Or her driving this vehicle through the city.

The picture in her head of her overtaking a car on the highway in this home-vehicle still makes her giggle.

Not that she'd be any good in driving such a big thing.

She does okay with a car, even a rather big car because having twenty-five piglets, she needs a big car.

But still, why does she _still_ think about it?

Because she needs a good laugh?

Granted, she really needs that after thinking about a solution for her tour-problem for such a long time now.

_Maybe…_

"Rosita, you ready?" Gunter asks from the door of the dressing room.

"Ready as I'll ever be!" she replies, checking her reflection in the mirror one last time.

She likes the outfit she starts the show in. Something simple, like she usually wears at home.

But she _can't_ wait to change into the sparkling stage outfit later! It's always so much fun.

She gives her reflection one last nod before she walks over to Gunter.

"About to start some major piggy power, no?" Gunter asks, doing a little dance.

"You bet!" Rosita replies with a laugh and then it's stage time.

* * *

Rosita has no idea what's going on, but it feels like tonight is one of her best shows ever. She always has fun singing, but she can't remember having such a blast!

Okay, she can. It was back at the concert in the ruins of the Moon Theater. And then during her very first show.

But then the feeling dampened down a bit because singing became a normal part of her life. She never saw it as work, though.

But tonight was like the concert in the ruins, like her first show, maybe it was even a little more amazing. She can't say for sure.

She just knows it was one of her best shows ever.

She's still giddy with excitement when she leaves for her dressing room, when she finds Mr. Moon looking at her.

He nods his head in approvement.

"Good job out there, Rosita," he says.

"Thank you, Mr. Moon!" Rosita replies.

"I don't what was going on, but I think this was one of the best shows ever!"

"Really?" Rosita can't believe what she's hearing. Yes, she had this feeling that this show has been special, too, but she was just regarding her feelings.

She did _not_ think it did affect her performance.

But hearing it from someone which such great experience in this business like Mr. Moon means a lot to her.

"Really, Rosita," the koala assures her. "Great job!"

"Thank you, Mr. Moon!"

"Can't wait to see how you do on tour!" the koala tells her.

Rosita's heart sinks a little as his words.

"Yes, me neither," she says, hoping that Mr. Moon doesn't hear that some of the excitement is gone from her voice.

If he does, he doesn't let it show. He just nods.

"Keep up the great work!" he says before he leaves.

"Will do!" Rosita calls after him, although she adds in her thoughts, _I hope I can…_

* * *

On her way home Rosita can't help, but start thinking about the tour again.

And unfortunately, it's not the funny thoughts Meena brought up.

She's wracking her brain again on how to get this tour working.

She's thinking so hard about it, she almost misses when the traffic light jumps back to green.

The honk of a car makes her jump a little and she quickly sets off, holding up her hand as an apology to the cars behind her.

She really shouldn't think about this while driving. She doesn't want to cause an accident.

She does her best to concentrate on the driving again, and she does a good job for a few minutes, but then she starts thinking about the tour again.

She shakes her head when she realizes that, trying to concentrate on driving again.

When that doesn't work as she wants it to, Rosita allows herself to think about the tour a little while driving.

Although it makes her sad that she can't find a solution.

So she forces her thoughts towards what Meena said.

_Too bad you can't put wheels under your home and take it with you._

It makes her giggle again.

And then, out of nowhere, she hears Norman's voice saying the words he told her during their date.

_And I always wanted to be a bus driver when I was a kid._

A home with wheels, a bus driver…

And suddenly it all clicks together in Rosita's brain.

She's so surprised, she hits the brakes, bringing her car to an abrupt halt.

She gazes into space, her eyes wide, her jaw dropped. She doesn't even care about the honking and the curses the other drivers send her way when they pass her. Actually, she doesn't even hear them.

She only sits there, and then she starts laughing.

It's so simple!

Why hasn't she thought about that before?

She laughs and laughs and laughs until she's panting for air.

Then she sets off again, shaking her head at the solution.

Really, it's so _simple!_

When she's home she can't park the car fast enough and darts to her apartment.

Before she can tear the door open, she reminds herself that her kids are already asleep, so she carefully enters the apartment and tiptoes up the stairs to her and Norman's bedroom. She silently opens the door and slips inside.

Norman's already asleep, but Rosita has no problem with waking him.

She quickly walks over to the bed and sits down on the edge.

"Norman," she addresses him, but Norman doesn't even flinch.

"Norman," she says a little more loudly. He stops snoring for a moment, and she thinks he's finally waking up, but he goes right back to sleeping and snoring.

"Norman!"

With that, he finally jumps awake, looking a bit shocked.

"Rosita?" he asks, immediately calming down and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replies with a little laugh. "I just know what to do!"

"To do what?"

Now that she thinks of it, she might have to work out a few details before she tells Norman about her amazing solution. Also, talking to him in the middle of the night when he isn't even perceptive and then ask for his opinion and his help to set her plan into action probably wasn't her brightest idea.

"I'll tell you in the morning," she says then.

"Then why did you wake me?" he asks.

Yes, another thing that probably wasn't one of her brightest ideas.

"I-I'm sorry," she says quickly. "I was so excited and had such a great time with the show today, I guess I just got carried away. Sorry!"

She forces her mouth into what she hopes look like an apologetic smile and it seems to work.

At least Norman is smiling back to her.

"Come here," he says as he leans forward and pulls her into a kiss.

Rosita has to admit, she didn't see that one coming, but she doesn't mind at all.


	39. Johnny

"And then Barry said…"

The voice of his father turns to background noise as Johnny's thoughts drift away.

Yes, talking to Ash has helped him to not think about what happened between him and Cia and that she probably hates him now.

It _has_ helped.

For a few days.

But Cia still isn't back from her _few days off_. It's been more than a week now.

Which means he started thinking about it again, wracking his brain about it again, and feeling bad about it again.

"Johnny, are you listening?"

Johnny flinches. His father doesn't sound angry, but still, there's a ring to his voice, something like annoyance, maybe?

"I'm sorry, Dad!" he says quickly. "I was just … thinking about something."

"And what would that be?"

Johnny looks up and into his father's face. He looks concerned.

Johnny thinks about it for a moment.

Should he talk to his father about what happened with Cia?

Sure, talking to Ash has helped, but this is his father? They usually don't talk about this kind of stuff.

But maybe, if he tries…

He takes a deep breath.

"Well, I have this friend," he begins. "And she's …"

"Oh, it's a _she!_ " his father interrupts him with a chuckle. "I guess I understand. Who is the lucky girl? Do I know her?"

"No, she's…"

Again, his father cuts in. "Oh? And I thought I knew all the gorillas in our neighborhood."

"Dad, she's not…"

"A gorilla?" his father interrupts him again. "Oh, that's fine. Is she an orang-utan? Or a chimpanzee? That's fine, too. Or is she a bonobo…"

"Dad!" It's not like Johnny to interrupt his father, but he has no idea how else to stop his flood of words. Especially when he's on the wrong track. Totally on the wrong track.

"Dad, listen," he begins, "she's not a girl." - Okay, that came out wrong. "I-I mean, yes, she's a girl. But not _that_ kind of girl. I… " He inhales deeply. "C-can we start over?"

His father looks at him with a confused look on his face. Johnny can't even blame him.

"Look, Dad," he tries again. "Cia is a snow leopard, and she's my friend. I wanted to help her with something, but I overdid it. And I think she hates me now."

"Okay." His father nods. "I think I get it now. You said you helped her?"

"I tried. But I overdid it. She even said that she never asked for my help in the first place."

"Hmmmm, you said she's a snow leopard," he says. "Really proud animals."

Johnny laughs a little at that. "I think she'd call that a cliché."

The laugh dies away when he sees the serious look on his father's face.

"Sorry!" he adds quickly.

"What I'm trying to say is," his father continues, "I don't think she would have asked for your help even if she needed it. You know why I think that?"

Johnny shakes his head.

"Because your mum wanted to help me back when we met. And I didn't want it because I was too proud to admit that I needed help. But she insisted. And you know what? Without her help I don't know if I would have made it. And even more importantly," - he smiles warmly - "I don't think we would have ever fallen in love. And I wouldn't have this amazing son I have now."

Johnny returns his father's warm smile. "Thank you, Dad."

He feels the urge to hug his father which of course is impossible with the glass between them, so Johnny sets for adding a bit more warmth to his smile.

"So," his father speaks up again, "what I'm trying to say is that maybe she really needed or wanted your help although she now says otherwise."

"But what about the fact that she hates me now?"

"Do you know for sure?"

"No, not really."

"Then you have to wait and see."

Johnny nods. It's almost what Ash told him already. What is new is that maybe it wasn't totally wrong to try to help her.

"Thank you, Dad!"

"You're welcome, son!"

Again, Johnny wants to hug his father.

Again, he can't.

Again, he just smiles.

It's all he can do.

* * *

When he arrives at the theater the next day, he's a bit nervous. Yes, he had concerts before, even concerts with Meena, but with the work at the garage he didn't have that much time to rehearse. He hopes everything is going to go as planned.

He's on his way to Mr. Moon, but when he opens the door to the office, he almost bumps into Cia.

He's so surprised, he freezes in place, staring at her with wide eyes.

She looks surprised, too, but she snaps out of a it a bit sooner.

"I'll be right back, Ms. Crawly!" she calls out.

"Cia, where are you going?" the iguana asks, but Cia doesn't reply.

Instead, she grabs his arm and drags him with her.

He lets it happen, his brain still trying to process that Cia is finally back.

There was something he wanted to do, but now he can't think of it.

When she stops in a quieter space of the theater and turns around, Johnny remembers.

He wanted to apologize.

"Cia," he starts, "I'm s…"

The rest of the word gets stuck in his throat when Cia places a hand over his mouth.

"Me first," she says.

He just nods and Cia removes the hand from his mouth.

"Johnny, I'm sorry," she says.

His eyes widen in surprise. She's sorry?

"I didn't mean to lash out at you like that," she goes on. "And the slap was totally uncalled for. I...I was freaking out. Double-sorry for that."

"Okay," Johnny says. He wants to say more, but Cia doesn't give him a chance.

"And thank you!" she says.

"What?" His eyes widen in surprise again.

"Yes, you heard that right," Cia goes on. "Thank you. Without your help I wouldn't have realized how much I don't want to have anything to do with my father's climbing school." She takes a deep breath. "I was at my parents' these past few days. To talk to them. To tell them how I feel about this."

"And?"

Cia shrugs. "They aren't happy, but they understand."

"So?"

Okay, he doesn't seem to be able to form whole sentences now, but Cia seems to get what he means.

"So they know now that I didn't take just a year off. And it means I can stay. Especially now that I got a promotion by Mr. Moon." She grins. "I am helping Mr. Moon with writing his play. And if I do okay, he wants me to help him with his future plays, too."

"Really? That's amazing!" Johnny calls out.

"I know!" Cia says euphorically.

Now Johnny feels the urge to hug her, and although there is no glass between them, he doesn't do it.

He almost does, but he catches himself just in time.

Because there's something else he needs to do first.

"Cia, I'm sorry," he says.

"What for?"

"For trying to help you although you didn't want my help. For overdoing it. For making you freak out."

"Okay," Cia says. "Apology accepted. But just so you know, I guess I needed your help anyway. Without it I would never have mustered up the courage to tell my parents the truth. So thanks again."

"You're welcome." He smiles at her. "And thank you, too."

"For what?"

"For accepting my apology."

Cia returns his smile. "You're welcome."

Johnny doesn't know if he should hug her now. It seems right, but what if she doesn't want to hug him? And maybe he should tell her about the song he turned her poem into first.

Yes, now seems to be the right for this.

He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, his phone rings.

He checks it. It's Mr. Moon. Which means he has to take it.

"Yes, Mr. Moon? ... Oh yes, sure, I'll be right there!"

He looks at Cia.

"Time for soundcheck," he explains with a little shrug.

The right time to talk to her about the poem seems gone now. Same goes for the urge to hug her. Well, not really, but it doesn't seem right any longer.

"Okay," Cia says with a smile. "I'm going to watch the concert backstage. Mr. Moon said it's okay."

"Awesome! See you later, Cia!"

"Later, Johnny!"


	40. Mike

Mike has to admit, he never thought helping with the preparations for the charity concert at Johnny's garage would be so much fun.

Okay, _fun_ probably is too strong a word.

But it helps.

It helps a lot, actually.

Whenever Nancy leaves alone, Mike can't think of anything else to do, but to get into his car with his bodyguards and drive to the garage. There's always work that needs to be done there.

Okay, he _can_ think of other things to do - like checking his phone every two minutes or rehearsing or planning a new pop-up concert.

But checking the phone doesn't help. It makes him even more anxious.

Rehearsing helps for as long as he can concentrate - which is only for a song or two before the thoughts about what could happen to Nancy get overwhelming again.

And same goes for planning a new pop-up concert. He can concentrate on it for fifteen minutes, then starts thinking about Nancy again.

So he decided to give up on pop-up concerts for the time being.

He's too busy with the preparations for the charity concert anyway.

Because it helps.

And he isn't even sure why.

Is it because he actually has to do something with his hands? That's a possibility. He really needs to concentrate or he might hurt himself.

Or is it because he is among other animals? He doesn't like to think about it, but it's a possibility, too. He didn't think about Nancy and what could happen to her that much when they all were watching Meena's interview and then trying to cheer her up.

What still amazes him is that he went after Meena and tried to help her.

It's so not like him.

But he felt sorry for her. And he understood what was going on. So that's probably the reason why he did what he did.

And because he didn't have anything better to do.

Yes, that's important.

He wouldn't have done it if he had anything better to do.

Which he hadn't.

But still.

And of course, he had to play it cool when Meena arrived at the garage together with Rosita and cookies for them all.

He took the cookie because if she had already baked it, it would be a waste not to take it. That's how he put it. He didn't say thank-you.

And the smile he gave Meena was an accident. He has no idea where that had been coming from.

He looks at his phone, the second time within five minutes.

Because five minutes ago was when Nancy left.

He sighs and shakes his head.

Well, it looks like it's time for the garage.

But before he can set into motion, his phone rings.

He frowns before he takes the call.

"Hi there, Jumbo!" he greets the caller. "What's up?"

" _Hello, Mike!"_ Meena replies. " _Well, I thought about what you said about figuring out what to do next and…"_

Mike rolls his eyes. The one thing about Meena he still doesn't get is how someone who hates talking so much can actually talk so much.

"Yeah, I remember, Jumbo," he cuts in. "I've been present."

" _Oh. Okay,"_ Meena says.

He waits for her to say more which she doesn't.

He rolls his eyes again.

"So, is there something you wanted to tell me? Something I don't know already?" he suggests.

" _Oh, yes,"_ Meena says quickly. " _I have this concert coming up tonight together with Johnny. He'll do the first part and I'll do the one after a little break, and I thought,"_ \- he feels the urge to say something so she'll finally get to the point, but he bites down his tongue - " _maybe you want to come?"_

"Me?" he asks. "Why?"

" _Because you helped me,"_ Meena replies. " _Because you like my singing. And because I think I found a solution and I want you to be there to hear about it first-hand."_

"You could tell me first-hand now."

" _No."_ He can practically see her shake her head. " _I can't. It would make more sense at the concert. I already talked to Mr. Moon. You can watch from backstage. Your bodyguards, too. So what do you say?"_

"I guess I can show up," he says with a shrug. "If I don't have anything better to do."

" _Awesome! Thank you, Mike! Bye!"_

"Bye, Jumbo!"

Somehow, Mike has this feeling that he isn't going to have anything better to do tonight.

He has no idea where that is coming from, though.

* * *

His feeling was right because the same night, he's standing backstage, watching Johnny perform.

Sure, he could have shown up after the break, but well, he _really_ didn't have anything better to do. Nancy was home for a bit in the afternoon, but left to meet a friend for dinner.

So he decided he could just as well watch the whole concert.

He isn't alone backstage. Eddie Noodleman is there, and that snow leopard-girl whose name Mike has forgotten. He doesn't ask, though, because he doesn't really care. Actually, he doesn't even want to talk, so he just listens to Johnny's music and waits.

When Johnny ends his last song, Mike feels that he's getting a bit nervous.

Which doesn't make any sense.

Why would _he_ be nervous? He isn't nervous when he performs himself, so why on earth should it make him nervous to wait for Meena to perform?

As far as he knows, Meena is doing a pretty good job on that one herself.

When the break is almost over, Mr. Moon arrives, and Mike nods at him for a greeting. Johnny joins them backstage a few moments later, and then, finally, Meena arrives.

"Good luck, Meena!" the snow leopard says, and Mike rolls his eyes.

She doesn't seem to know much about this whole theater-stuff, does she?

"Hey, break a leg out there, Jumbo!" he says to Meena.

The elephant just smiles at him, then enters the stage.

Mike waits for her to shrink a bit into herself as she walks over to the microphone, to put her ears over her face, and/or to knock over the stand of the microphone, but she doesn't do neither.

Actually, he never thought he saw her walking that confidently before. Not that he really paid attention. So he could be mistaken.

And then Meena's standing at the microphone, takes a deep breath and opens her mouth to say something. But she doesn't say anything, she _sings_.

She sings her introduction, she welcomes the animals at her concert, singing the words.

Mike feels the grin spreading over his face.

"What's she doing?" Mike hears Johnny ask behind him.

Mr. Moon chuckles.

"That, Johnny," the koala says, "is Meena's new image. She has problems talking, so now she sings. The animals love her for it."

"Good point," Johnny replies.

Mike feels the grin on his face grow even broader.

_Way to go, Jumbo!_


	41. Ash

Ash is still surprised how finishing her album has changed everything for her. The label is happy, Mr. Moon is happy because they already found a date for her exclusive album release-concert, and of course, she herself is happy. More than anything.

Because she did it!

She wrote an album! An entire album!

The thought alone makes her giggle with joy.

And now all she needs to do is record it. And rehearse, of course.

She is going to start recording after the charity concert, so she decided to use the time left to rehearse and help with the preparations for the concert.

Funny thing is she hasn't ruined anything at the garage ever since she finished her album. No notches because she used her hammer with too much force, not almost killing someone because she sent her hammer flying, no, just her doing some decent work.

She likes how that feels.

And she likes, too, that Lance hasn't sent her any more flowers ever since Cia threw him out of the theater. Although she must confess, she misses Jared a bit. It was nice to see him every Wednesday, and it was nice to do something good with the flowers she didn't want to have. Jared kept telling her how much the people at the hospital loved the flowers.

Maybe she should buy some flowers and have Jared deliver them to the hospital. She could make this her own weekly ritual, maybe for Wednesdays.

So Lance's persistence was at least good for something. The people at the hospital are going to get more flowers out of it.

And maybe she should be there at the hospital, too, and help Jared because that way, she could see how much the people like her flowers.

Yes, that sounds like a plan.

She checks her watch. According to it, she has time to play her latest song - the one about the girl who's a sweetheart unless you tell her so - once more before she meets Johnny so the two of them can get to the garage.

With a smile she plays the first chord.

* * *

"So, how are things with Cia?" Ash asks when Johnny and she reach the foyer on the way to Johnny's truck.

"Good," he replies. "I apologized, we talked about it, she isn't mad at me, and we're talking again."

"That's great!" Ash calls out. "What did she say to the song?"

"Uhm, nothing."

"Nothing?" Ash repeats, her eyes widened in surprise. But then it hits her. "Let me guess. You didn't tell her, right?"

Johnny clears his throat. "Well, I've been so busy with the work at the garage and the concert two days ago, I simply didn't have the time to talk to her yet."

Ash rolls her eyes. "Yes, Johnny, that's what we call procrastinating."

"It's not!" Johnny replies. "It's … uhm …"

Ash waits for him to go on, but he doesn't. She waits a little longer. Still nothing.

"Then what is it?" Ash asks.

Johnny sighs. "Okay, maybe it is."

"But why?"

"Well, we are talking again, and I don't want to ruin that."

_Yeah, because you have a crush on her._

Ash can catch her tongue just in time. Although she isn't sure why. Johnny is so slow on the uptake, maybe he just needs a little push. She could still say it, though. Maybe she should.

They've just exited the theater and Ash opens her mouth to do just that when she sets eyes on a familiar porcupine waiting at the foot of the stairs.

She closes her mouth with a snap and presses her lips into a thin line.

_What's Lance doing here!?_

She looks back at Johnny who gives her a little nod and moves closer to her side. Together they descend the stairs.

They haven't even reached the foot of the stairs when Lance comes closer.

"Ash!" he calls out. "Ash, please!"

He tries to get closer to her, but Johnny blocks his way.

"Ash, please, I just want to talk to you!" Lance begs, ignoring Johnny as best as he can as he tries to look around him to look at Ash. "You don't even have to say anything, just listen. Please!"

There's something in his voice that makes Ash frown. Or is it just the fact that she hasn't heard him beg for something in ages?

"Ash, please!" Lance says again.

Johnny looks at her over her shoulder. She bites down her lip, then gives a little nod. Johnny returns the gesture.

"Okay," he says, stepping out of Lance's way. "I'll be right over there if you need me." And with that he walks over to his parked truck.

Ash nods again, and then Lance is standing in front of her.

"Okay, Ash, look," he says. "You were right."

"Was I?" Ash asks. She doesn't even know what Lance is talking about.

"Yes," he says with a little shrug. "I never apologized to your face. I-I just thought saying it on a card would be enough. But it isn't. Writing it down on one-hundred cards still wouldn't be enough. Although I might have reached that number one day." He laughs nervously.

He could be right about the one-hundred cards, though, Ash thinks.

"But you deserve more than that," Lance goes on. "You deserve the whole story." He takes a deep breath. And another one.

"So?" Ash asks, twisting her mouth a little.

"Okay." Lance inhales deeply one more time and lowers his eyes to the ground. "Back when I started the band and was looking for a background singer, I must admit, I saw your talent when you rehearsed. But I didn't see all of it, just a glimpse, and I thought it would work. And it did, for a little while at least. We improved together, but then there came the day when I seemed to have stopped improving and you just got better and better. Your voice grew more amazing with every song you sang, and then you started getting carried away on stage. You upstaged, you almost pushed me off the stage a few times. I know you didn't do it on purpose, but it was getting on my nerves. Because here I was, the lead singer, the founder of this band, being upstaged by his background singer. And the worst thing was, during the few gigs we had, the people seemed to love you for it! And after that the koala only chose you, not me which was another punch at my already bruised ego. And if that hadn't been enough, you suddenly announced that you wanted to write your own song. Writing songs! That was the last thing I had left I could do and you couldn't, and there you were, willing to take that away from me, too."

Ash opens her mouth to interrupt, but Lance holds up his hand, cutting her off before she even gets the chance to speak.

"And every morning you left for rehearsals, so excited and happy, and I was left behind. I felt so hurt, but couldn't let it show. And then I met Becky. She was looking up at me and she loved everything I did, she loved to sing songs together and she didn't get carried away, and I guess it was just what my bruised ego needed."

Ash tries to process what he was trying to tell her. Was he trying to apologize or was he trying to blame her for what happened? She isn't sure about that.

Lance sighs. "The thing is, Ash, I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to push you down, I never meant to do you wrong, but the truth is, I did all of that, probably more, and I am sorry for that. I should have supported you, instead me and my stupid ego ruined everything. And I am sorry for that, too."

Ash blinks a few times, still trying to process what she's just heard. She hasn't heard Lance apologize for anything in a very long time. She hasn't seen him so contrite in a very long time.

And then she remembers. He's so much more like he used to be back when they started dating. There's a bit of the Lance shining though she has fallen for all this time ago.

And somehow it's a relief to know that she hadn't fallen for a complete jerk, that something of the Lance from back then is still left.

Lance shrugs. "Now that I spent a lot of time thinking about this, I would understand if you could never forgive me. I just wanted to let you know the whole story, well, my side of the story at least. And I wanted to apologize. So, yeah, good-bye, Ash. And sorry again."

And with that, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and leaves.

Ash just stands there, dumbfounded, her brain still trying to catch up with what Lance has said.

It takes her a while to realize that Johnny has walked up to her and is now standing next to her.

"That sounded genuine," Johnny says.

"Yeah," she says, looking after Lance. "Yeah, it did."

And then she runs off.

"Lance, wait!" she calls after him.

He stops and turns around to face her with his eyes wide.

"Thanks for your apology," she says. "It means a lot to me. I think I …"

"Can forgive me?" Lance cuts in.

She shakes her head. "No, but maybe we can …"

"Start over again?"

"No! Would you please let me finish my own sentences!?"

"I-I'm sorry. Again," he says with a sheepish grin. "Guess I got carried away."

She almost laughs at that, but pushes the laughter down just in time and settles for an eye-roll instead.

"Well, what I was trying to say, maybe we can go grab some pizza together or something and, you know, talk?"

"Sure!"

"Okay, I'll call you. Bye, Lance!"

"Bye, babe!"

She has already turned around, but now looks back at him over her shoulder with a glare.

"Easy on the babe, Lance," she says.

"Oh. Yeah, sure," Lance replies. "Bye, Ash!"

She rolls her eyes for real this time before she walks over to Johnny, ready to finally get some work done at the garage.


	42. Meena

Meena still isn't sure what made the things finally click together in her brain. What she remembers is that Mike's words kept floating around in her head.

_You, my lil' Jumbo, have an amazing_ singing _voice._

And suddenly it made all sense. And she knew what she had to do.

She talked to Mr. Moon about her idea first, and he liked it.

And then at the concert she tried it for the very first time.

Okay, not really for the first time - she already did that during the interview with Richard Stripes -, but for the first time she did it on purpose.

And her fans seemed to like it.

The papers the next day were full of her and Johnny's concert and all of them mentioned her new image as the always singing talent.

She baked a cake for Mike as a little thank-you. Of course, he shrugged it off as nothing, even refused to admit that he actually helped her.

All he said was that he gave her a hint.

He took the cake anyway.

It made her smile.

After the concert the promotion for the charity concert started. Which meant a lot of interviews for Buster and Johnny.

And her new image got her some interviews herself, so she used them to talk or rather sing about the charity concert, too.

Johnny thanked her after every interview, either when he saw her at the garage - he even hugged her once - or he sent a text or called her.

She's just glad she can use her new popularity to help. The youth center is such a great idea! She wants it to be a success. And she wants to help Johnny because he's her friend.

The time simply flew after her concert between interviews, school, helping at the garage, and rehearsals, and now the charity concert is going to take place in a few days.

She's already excited!

She couldn't even sleep last night, so she baked muffins for her friends.

She enters the garage, humming a little tune.

Meena first sets eyes on Mike who's trying knock in a nail, although the hammer is bigger than he is.

"Here, Mike," she says, reaching into the cake box with her trunk and offering a muffin to Mike.

"Oh, no, no, no," Mike says with a little laugh. "My girlfriend's already complaining that I'm gaining weight."

Meena shrugs. "She doesn't need to know."

"She's going to _see_."

"Then you have to work extra-hard here to burn calories," she says, pushing the muffin on Mike, so he has no choice, but to take it.

He laughs a little louder.

"Love the new confidence, sweetheart!" he says.

It makes Meena smile as she continues her round to hand out muffins.

And she can't help, but notice that Mike called her sweetheart instead of Jumbo.

* * *

Meena is helping Johnny with the lighting when Rosita enters the garage. There's a spring in her step and a smile on her face, and it all looks so familiar to Meena.

Somehow, it reminds her of the time after she figured out how to handle interviews.

So when she gets the chance, she simply has to ask Rosita.

"Any news on the tour?"

Rosita's smile turns into a grin. "Yes! And by yes I mean, I'm going to do the tour!"

"Awesome!" Meena replies. "So you found a solution for your problem?"

"Yes, indeed!" If it's possible, Rosita's grin has grown even broader now. Meena starts to think it's going to fall off Rosita's face any minute now.

"Cool! What is it?"

Rosita winks at her. "You'll have to wait till the charity concert."

"Oh, come on, Rosita!"

"No exceptions! Mr. Moon knows because he has to. But it's going to be a surprise for the rest of you guys."

* * *

The last days till the charity concert are nothing but a blur of rehearsals and costume-choices and adding the final touches to the garage.

And then the day of the concert is here.

Surprisingly, Meena did manage to sleep a bit. And she feels rather calm when she arrives at the Moon Theater.

Because there are no rehearsal rooms at the garage, Mr. Moon asked them to do the final rehearsals at the Theater.

Meena stops at the stairs in front of the theater and looks around whether any of her friends are around already.

She hears a car stop and turns around.

It's Johnny, jumping out of his truck.

And while Meena still feels rather calm, Johnny seems like a nervous wreck. He runs up to her, stops after a few steps, turns around, runs back to his truck, grabs something from the passenger seat and starts off to the Theater again.

"Hello, Johnny!" Meena greets.

"Hi, Meena!" Johnny replies quickly before he runs past her.

"Are you okay?" Meena asks.

"'M fine!" comes the reply from Johnny before he disappears inside the theater.

Meena doesn't even get the chance to ask him if he's sure.

She makes a mental note to look after Johnny later. She knows that this concert is very important to him, so it makes sense that he's nervous. It still wouldn't hurt to check on him.

She's about to climb the stairs when she hears a car horn behind her. She stops and looks around.

And there it is, the biggest motorhome she has ever seen.

Her jaw drops.

The motorhome stops and the door opens, and Meena sets eyes on Rosita who's standing in the door with a broad grin on her face.

"So, what do you say?" the pig asks. "Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a living room. I dare say it's bigger than our apartment."

She jumps out of the motorhome, and Meena sets eyes on Norman who waves at her before he closes the door again and drives off.

And has she been mistaken or was he smiling the whole time?

"Where is he going?"

"Getting the kids from school," Rosita replies. "He needs to get used to it before we go on tour. Although he does love the intercom and making announcements."

She giggles.

Meena watches how the motorhome slowly takes a right at the next crossroad.

"He's getting the hang of it," Rosita says. "After all, Mr. Moon hired him as a driver for the tour."

"He did?"

"Yes, because he said it's better to hire Norman as a driver than to lose his star. - I'm his star, by the way. - He's even helping me to find a private tutor for the kids!"

"That's so awesome!" Meena says.

"Yes, yes, it is! Can't wait to show the motorhome to the rest of you guys after the concert tonight!"

Meena smiles at that. And then she remembers something and starts laughing.

Rosita looks at her with a raised brow.

"You really _did_ put wheels under your home!" Meena explains.

Rosita looks at her for a moment before she bursts into laughter as well.


	43. Buster

Buster checks his watch. It's about time he gets to the rehearsal rooms to remind everyone that they are going to leave for the garage soon.

Eddie's already there for the final checks on the lighting and sound system, and from the last text he sent Buster, everything seems to be working just fine.

Buster sighs. The last weeks have been so eventful, he barely got any time to rest, yet he wouldn't have missed them for the world.

He's positive the charity concert is going to be a success. They have some of the greatest local talents around the city performing, plus Meena's new popularity as the girl who always sings added an extra spotlight to the concert.

Johnny, however, looked like a nervous wreck when he arrived this morning. Which probably is understandable because it's primarily his project, but no matter how hard Buster tried to convince him that everything was going to be fine, Johnny didn't look convinced.

So Buster told Ms. Crawly to check on Johnny every thirty minutes and provide him with hot chocolate.

So far, it seems to be working because Johnny didn't have a mental breakdown. Yet.

Buster checks his watch again and gets up. He puts on his jacket and leaves his office.

"Okay, Cia," he says to the snow leopard who was on phone-duty all day, "let's round them up."

Cia just nods and follows him.

* * *

While Cia is getting Johnny, Rosita, and Gunter, Buster checks on Meena first, just in case.

Her nervousness could have made a comeback. But he's pleased when Meena just smiles at him and gets the clothes bag containing her dress for tonight.

Next up is Mike, and as always the mouse plays it cool.

"Time to go already, Mr. Moon?" he asks. "I'm ready."

That moment, Mike's phone rings.

"Sorry, Mr. Moon," he says, checking the caller-ID. "That's my girlfriend. I better take that."

"No problem."

Mike answers the call.

"Hi there, sweetheart!" he says, and Buster is about to turn away to give Mike some privacy, but there something in the way the mouse tenses that keeps him from doing it.

"Wh-who's there? … No, no, please. Please don't hurt her! … I'll be right there!"

And with that, Mike makes a beeline for the door, just stops to tell his bodyguards go go home when they try to follow him.

"Mike, where are you going?" Buster calls after the mouse, but he doesn't seem to hear.

Buster turns towards Meena, but the elephant already set after Mike.

What's going on? Buster asks himself. This can't be happening! We're two acts down already!

And then he sees how Meena stops to talk to the group of the Rosita, Gunter, Johnny, and Cia. They just share looks, and then they follow Meena.

Okay, okay, Ash is still left! Buster thinks.

In that exact moment Johnny runs over to Ash's rehearsal room, telling her something and the two of them run off.

"This isn't happening!" Buster calls out. "We're down to zero acts!"

And because he doesn't know what else to do, he runs after the others. He almost bumps into Ms. Crawly who's just leaving Johnny's rehearsal room.

"Ms. Crawly, call Eddie!" he tells her. "Tell him we're probably going to be a little late. He might have to entertain the guests till we get there!"

"Wait, what?"

"Just do it!"

And then he picks up some extra speed.

He doesn't know what's going on. He only knows it must be something big and terrible or not all of his acts would have left within two minutes. If he ever had any doubt, seeing Johnny leave with the rest wiped it away. Johnny would never have left so soon before his concert if hell didn't break lose.

Buster reaches the street the moment Johnny starts his truck, with Rosita and gunter sitting on the passenger seat and Ash, Meena, and Cia on the truck bed.

Buster jumps on the hood, spreading his arms as a sign to stop them.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks. "We have a concert coming up?"

"Something's wrong with Mike!" Meena explains. "He might need some help."

"You are not going anywhere!" Buster calls out to them.

"But, Mr. Moon…" Meena replies.

He doesn't let her finish.

"You are not going anywhere!" he repeats. "Without me!"

And with that he moves over to the window on the passenger side and climbs inside, telling Rosita and Gunter to move over while he does so.

* * *

They catch up with Mike when he stops his car in front of a building.

Buster doesn't know how Johnny did it, how he managed to keep up with Mike's super-special sports car in this old truck of his, but he did it.

Although Buster did get flung around quite a bit, not to mention the gasps coming from the truck bed whenever Johnny took a quick turn.

Buster quickly looks back. Yes, Meena, Cia, and Ash are still there, although they do look a bit whacked.

He gets out of the truck as quickly as he can, following Johnny as he runs up to Mike.

Mike has opened the trunk of his car, trying his best to haul a big bag out.

"Mike, what's going on?" Buster asks.

Mike freezes for a moment before he looks at them.

"What are you doing here?" Mike asks them in return. "You are not supposed to be here and you have to leave right now!"

"We won't!" Meena replies, and a look around tells Buster that the others have caught up with them. "Not before you tell us what's going on."

"They have her!" Mike calls out. "The bears! They have Nancy! And if I don't show up on this roof," - he points up the building - "within the next five minutes, they're going to hurt her! Or worse!"

If Buster remembers correctly, Nancy is the name of Mike's girlfriend. As for bears, he immediately thinks of the bears who barged in when they did the special performance for Nana Noodleman.

"You have to leave now!" Mike goes on as he continues trying to get the bag out of the trunk. "They said no police and no bodyguards!"

"We're not going anywhere," Johnny says as he grabs the bag and flicks it over his shoulder. "Besides, you need someone to carry that bag for you."

Then the gorilla smiles down at Mike, and as surprising as it is, Mike replies with a smile of his own, a weak and thin smile, but a smile nonetheless.

* * *

Buster doesn't get why Cia insisted on waiting by the cars, but Johnny just nods and there was no time to question anything.

And the moment they step out on the roof, Buster's premonition is proven right.

Those are the three bears from back then.

And one of them is holding a female mouse in his big paw.

"What are they doing here?" one bear wearing a hat asks, his voice heavy with an accent, just like Buster remembers it while nodding at Buster and the others. "I said you come alone!"

"No, you said no police and no bodyguards," Mike replies. "And those are my friends!"

Buster isn't sure if he heard that right. Did Mike really just call them his friends?

Somehow, this makes him want to smile, somehow, it has a wrong ring to it. All in all, it seems weird.

"Besides, I needed some help with the money," Mike goes and nods at Johnny who throws the bag at the bears' feet.

One of them bends down and opens it, showing it to the bear with the hat.

Said bear holds out his hand and the other hands him the bag.

"That's twice the amount I owe you!" Mike says. "Now let Nancy go!"

The bear with the hat shakes his head.

"Oh, Mike, Mike, Mike," he says, tossing the bag over the roof edge, sending dollar bills flying. "You don't get it, do you?" This isn't about the money any longer! It is about destroying you!"

He nods at the bear next to him, the one who's holding Nancy in his paw and he stretches his paw holding the mouse over the roof edge. Then he opens his paw and Nancy falls.

"Nooooooo!" Mike screams, running a few steps ahead.

He stops looking at the bear's paw, and Buster follows his gaze.

And then he sees it. There's a cord wrapped around one of the fingers of the bear, and from the silent scream he can hear coming from below, Buster presumes that Nancy is dangling on the other end.

The bear with the hat walks over to his companion placing one sharp claw at the thread.

"Now, come on, Mike," he says. "Beg."

"Let her go, please!" Mike calls out. "She has nothing to do with this! Take me instead!"

"Oh, we will come to you!" the bear replies. "But you can do better than that, can't you?"

Mike sinks to his knees. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry! I shouldn't have cheated at cards! I should have given you your money! I'm sorry! Please let her go! Please!"

"Not bad," the bear says with a silent chuckle.

Then he cuts the cord.

Buster gasps.

Next to him, Mike is screaming.


	44. Johnny

The moment the bear cuts the cord holding Nancy, Johnny feels the urge to run forward, to do _something_ , but in the same moment, he realizes it's too late for that.

So Johnny stays where he is.

He hears Mike scream, and he still wants to do something, but he has no idea what.

The bear laughs.

"So, Mike, how does it feel?" he asks.

"You monster!" Mike cries out, and the bear laughs a little louder.

"Your girlfriend is gone," the bear says, and suddenly his face turns serious. "And you are next!"

The bears set into motion, and Johnny shifts closer to Mike.

Because that's something he can do - trying to defend Mike.

Yes, these are three bulky bears, but Johnny knows how to fight. He might be the only one around here, but he'll try.

And there's still Meena around. She probably doesn't know anything when it comes to fighting, but she's strong. And Ash has her quills. Rosita, Gunter, Mr. Moon, and Mike himself can't do much how Johnny sees it, but they still can do something.

They probably still won't stand a chance, though, but Johnny refuses to give up.

"You really wanna risk a fight?" he asks, hoping his voice sounds as confident as he wants it to. "We outnumber you!"

The bears laugh a little at that, but Johnny just goes on, "You are three bears, and we are one gorilla, one elephant, two pigs, one porcupine, one koala, and one mouse!"

Okay, he really hopes the bears don't get how ridiculous that sounds, especially the mouse-part.

"Add a snow leopard to that!" a voice behind Johnny suddenly calls out, a familiar voice.

"And one more mouse!" another voice calls out that sounds familiar, too.

Johnny looks over his shoulder, and there they are.

Cia's holding onto the roof edge, and there on her shoulder sits Nancy.

Johnny looks back to the bears who've stopped, surprise clearly written over their faces, but then the grim looks on their faces are back, and they're about to start moving again when the sound of police sirens sounds up from the street, and the bears stop again.

"We said no police!" the bear with the hat says.

"Hey, it wasn't us who sent dollar bills raining down the street!" Ash calls out. "Of course this will alarm the cops!"

The bear growls.

"This isn't over yet, Mike!" he says.

"Oh, but it is!" Mike replies, and Johnny can practically hear the smirk in Mike's voice. "Because we have this all on tape, don't we, Meena?"

"Y-yeah," Meena says, and from the corner of his eye Johnny sees her grab her phone with her trunk. "W-we do!"

"So?" the bear says.

"So you either get lost now and hope that you _never_ cross our paths again," Mike goes on, "or we'll get you nailed for attempted murder!"

The bears growl again, and Johnny can see that they _want_ to attack them, but instead, they turn around and run for the stairs.

"Wow," Mr. Moon laughs. "I didn't know bears could run that fast."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's a cliché," Johnny replies, and there's a silent chuckle as a reply from behind him.

Johnny turns around just in time to see how Nancy hops down from Cia's shoulder and runs right into Mike's arms.

"See, sweetheart?" Mike says. "That's why I told you to be careful!"

"I know, I know," Nancy replies before Mike pulls her into a kiss.

With a smile Johnny turns his attention back to Cia, and the smile disappears from his face almost immediately.

He doesn't like how tightly she's holding onto the roof edge.

He walks over to her.

"Cia, you can come all the way up now," he says.

"A-actually, I can't," the snow leopard replies, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm-I'm frozen in fear."

Johnny bites down his lip and moves closer.

"Look at me. Don't look down, look at me," he says, and when Cia does, he smiles down at her. "Good. Now give me your hand." - Cia does that, too. - "Good. I'm going to pull you up now."

Cia nods, and he pulls her up.

"There you g…" He can't finish the sentence because as soon as Cia has ground under her feet again, she wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly. It makes it hard for him to breathe, but when he feels how Cia shivers he couldn't care less. He hugs her back, gently rubbing her back.

"I-I didn't know what else to do," Cia says. "There was no one else around to do it! I saw what they were doing to her, so I climbed all the way up and cut her free from that cord! I-I climbed all the way up!" She's shivering more now. "I climbed! I… I…"

"It's fine," Johnny says, his voice a little pressed because she's still hugging him so tightly.

"Hey, you two can go back to being lovey-dovey in a few moments," Mike suddenly says. "But I need to tell you something,"

_Lovey-dovey?_ Johnny doesn't really know what Mike means.

But Cia lets go of him and turns to face Mike.

"Thanks," the mouse says to her. "For saving my girlfriend. And thanks to the rest of you for sticking with me. I…I..." Mike breaks off before he shrugs it off. "Ah, go back to hugging now!"

Johnny frowns at that.

"Actually, don't!" Mr. Moon calls out. "Or have you all forgotten that we have a concert coming up?"

Cia still seems a bit unsteady on her feet, so Johnny places a hand on her back when they go down the stairs.

"Hey, you really got that on tape?" he hears Ash ask Meena.

"No!" the elephant replies. "And I thought they'd see right through my act!"

"I told you, sweetheart," Mike cuts in. "Love the new confidence!"

* * *

They reach the garage finding Eddie doing some sort of stand-up comedy, ending a story on why he only visits his Nana on Wednesdays now, concluding in a nervous laugh coming from him. No one else laughs, though.

Mr. Moon quickly climbs the stage to welcome the guests while Johnny and the rest go backstage to get ready for their performance.

Because this concert was Johnny's idea they decided he should go first, so he rolls out the piano on the stage.

When he sits down, about to start his song, his eyes fall on Ash looking at him from backstage. She gives him a thumbs-up, and then his eyes fall on Cia, standing next to her, and an idea forms in his head.

Yes, he's _supposed_ to sing a cover-song, but suddenly, this doesn't feel right anymore. Another song suits this situation so much better.

_Please don't hate me for this, Cia!_ he thinks before he speaks up.

"You're about to hear my very first original song," he says. "I had some help from my very good friend Ash who's already a pro when it comes to songwriting. The lyrics were written by another friend of mine, and I hope she likes what I did."

He takes a deep breath, some doubts coming up to his mind, but it's too late for that now.

So he starts singing the song he turned Cia's poem into. It's a risk, he knows that. She could probably sue him for that, right? But he doesn't care. Not now.

Cia has done something amazing today and he wants to thank her for that in his own way.

He doesn't risk another look backstage, he just sings.

And when the song is finished, the crowd cheers. It makes him smile, but then he sees movement coming from backstage, and when he turns towards it, he sets eyes on Cia stepping out on the stage.

Her expression is hard to read, so Johnny gets up from his piano stool and takes a few steps into her direction. But then he stops. He still can't read Cia's expression, so he isn't sure if she likes the song or if he should rather run for his life. Somehow, he's leaning towards the second option.

But before he can do that, Cia has caught up with him, and then, in a quick movement, she hugs him again.

"Thank you!" she says.

He can hear the crowd applaud as he returns the hug, and when they slowly let go again, they look at each other.

Johnny really can't say who bridges the space between them, if it's him or Cia or the both of them, but suddenly their lips touch, just for a moment, and when they pull apart again, Cia looks a bit surprised, but so does he. He smiles at her, and she returns the smile.

Again, he can't tell if it's him that bridges the distance or her or them together, but they lean in for another kiss, and Cia wraps her arms around his neck again. He replies by pulling her even closer.

He doesn't know how long this kiss lasts. It feels too long and too short at the same time, but suddenly Mr. Moon addresses them.

"Okay, you love birds," he laughs, and they pull apart again, "get off the stage!"

Cia takes his hand and they rush backstage, followed by the _awwwwwws_ and the applause of the crowd.

They pass Ash on her way to her performance who gives them another thumbs-up and a wink.

Ash performs her song about the girl who's a sweetheart unless you tell her so, and Johnny can't help, but tell Cia who inspired the song.

"Wow, I'm a muse, and I didn't even know!" she says with a little laugh.

"You didn't even know you could climb a building, yet you did exactly that today," Johnny says, giving her hand a little squeeze.

It's supposed to be reassuring, he wants to tell what an amazing thing she accomplished today, but he doesn't miss the small shiver going through her body.

"Yeah," she says with a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I did that!"

And then she wavers a bit, and Johnny reaches out just in time to catch her before she topples over.

"Seriously, you two?" Johnny hears Mike's annoyed voice. "Get a room!"


	45. Buster

If someone had told Buster a few weeks ago how things would turn out in the end, he wouldn't have believed it.

Just a few weeks ago, he had no finished play, no idea how to keep Nana Noodleman interested in funding his latest play, and a new secretary who was being chased around by his old secretary.

Now his play is finished, Nana Noodleman loves it, and his old secretary has stopped driving the new secretary crazy. Actually, Ms. Crawly is now very nice towards Cia. Which might have something to do with the fact that she isn't the new secretary any longer. Cia now officially is a writer. Yes, she still helps when Ms. Crawly's desk seems to break under towers of papers, but it's not her main job any longer.

And she's doing great. He loves the idea she had for the next show. The one following up the one starring Johnny.

Rehearsals have already started, and so far, Johnny's doing great. Although they had to go for only one performance per week because after the charity concert a label contacted Johnny and has him signed up for his first album.

Which is fine for Buster. Given Cia's idea for the next play, he's going to have another show up and running pretty quickly.

The charity concert was a huge success, by the way, which adds some extra workload to Johnny because now he's organizing to get the youth center started as soon as possible.

Buster has even volunteered to do some classes on acting.

Ash's album is finally out, and her album-release concert was a success, too.

Meena seems to love her new image as the always singing talent. Now she even seems to enjoy her interviews, something Buster would have thought impossible some weeks ago.

Just like he thought it impossible for Rosita to find a way to get her tour and her family reconciled. He never told her so, though. And she did it.

From what he can tell she and Norman spend every free minute in their motorhome because Norman needs to practice. Buster thinks it's more because Norman loves to drive around in the motorhome. He even invited Buster and the rest of Rosita's Theater-friends for a little tour, and it still makes Buster chuckle how much fun Norman had doing announcements whenever they passed something he thought worth mentioning. Like the Moon Theater. Or Johnny's garage/youth center. Or the grocery store where Rosita uses to shop.

What still is a mystery to Buster is how Mike has changed after what happened on the rooftop. Yes, he still makes fun of the others, yes, he still has his moments when he can be very annoying, but somehow, he seems more open towards the others.

Although, maybe Buster shouldn't be so surprised. Mike _did_ call them friends on the rooftop, after all, something Buster never thought he'd hear Mike say.

With a deep breath Buster gets up from his seat, stretches and walks over to the door of his office.

He opens the door, giving the staggering towers of papers on Ms. Crawly's desk a suspicious look.

He makes a mental note to ask Cia to help Ms. Crawly out in the next days.

When he closes the door of his office, however, the towers collapse.

Buster flinches.

"Sorry, Ms. Crawly!" he calls out as the iguana gets up as if she had all time in the world and starts picking up the papers again. "Do you need help?"

"No, Mr. Moon," Ms. Crawly replies. "I have everything under control."

Buster shakes his head with a small smile. Of course Ms. Crawly _doesn't_ need help. She _never_ needs help.

He decides to ask Cia to show up at the office today.

Johnny's coming in for rehearsals any minute now, so Cia can't be far. She usually accompanies her boyfriend, showing up at Buster's office to talk about her ideas for the new show or brings some notes on new scenes.

If Buster's lucky he doesn't have to go looking for them again. Sometimes, they _disappear_. And really, Buster could do without finding them making out in one of the dressing rooms again.

Although, it's nice to see Johnny so happy when he's with Cia. The young gorilla has been through so much, so who's Buster to judge? As long as Johnny shows up for rehearsals and meetings in time or not _waaaaaay_ too late, he's fine with it.

He descends the stairs and runs into Johnny and Cia in the foyer. He smiles when he sees they're holding hands.

"Hello, you two!" he greets them. "Ready for rehearsals, Johnny? I think we should try the song at the end of the first act. And Cia, do you have a moment?"

"On it!" Johnny replies. He shares one quick kiss with Cia before he gets to the stage area.

The snow leopard watches him leave before she turns to Buster. "Yes?"

"Do you think you could show up at the office?" he asks. "Ms. Crawly has to deal with another paper-flood."

"Again?" Cia asks with a little laugh. "I'm on my way."

"You know the drill, right?"

"Yes, _accidentally_ show up at the office and start working as if it were the most natural thing in the world."

"You got it!" Buster smiles at her. "Things are easier now with her, aren't they?"

Cia shrugs. "She doesn't chase me around and she calls me Cia, so I guess the answer is yes."

Buster laughs a little at that. "I'll tell Johnny where he can find you after his rehearsal. Good luck!"

Cia replies with a laugh of her own. "I'm gonna need it. Maybe."

And with that she leaves for the office.

Buster shakes his head with a smile before he gets going himself.

Yes, if someone would have told him how things would be now a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have believed them. Not one single word.

But to be honest, he couldn't care less.

He has his theater, he has his friends.

Yes, life is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it, folks, the final chapter of "Keep on Singing". It was one hell of a ride! I think I never wrote so much for a fandom in a bit more than two months. And I definitely never finished a multi-chapter fanfic in such a short time. I had a lot of fun with this story, and I hope you, my lovely readers, had fun, too. :) I want to thank you all for your support! You are the best! *hugs*  
> For those of you who want to read more about what's happening afterwards (especially with Johnny and Cia) I plan on doing a sequel. ^^


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